The Lost Ones
by winchester7996
Summary: One day Alfred got sick and passed away, but he became part of the undead and now lives with others like himself. However, the other countries have forgotten they exist . . . Now Alfred has met Arthur again in the present time. What will happen? vampUsXhumUk with others mentioned. I do not own hetalia!
1. 1613

**Newest addition to my story collection. I hope you all like.**

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**~*~*~* 1613*~*~*~**

It was one of the warmest nights of summer of the year. Warm and moist. Not yet midnight for in the colonies of North America. Young Canada was watching the night sky in childlike awe of the millions of stars lighting up the black sky. He watched the moon illuminate even more of black void and light the valley the young boy was sitting in. Matthew relished in the mysterious beauty of night sky. He looked up and hugged his polar bear cub gently. The young colony was at peace for the moment. As he continued to watch the sky he saw a shooting star cross along the endless sea of darkness. He remembered his big brother saying that he could wish on such a rarity to be seen. The Canadian closed his eyes and took a deep breathe. "I wish my little brother Alfred would be all better," he said quietly.

"Who?" spoke the cub.

The Canadian looked down and spoke softly, "My little brother who is really sick, Mr. Kumajaro."

"I believe it is Kumajiro, Mattie," said a familiar voice. The young colony jumped and nearly died of fright. He calmed down after looking over his shoulder and realized it was his big brother Britain, his other big brother then France, who had left him to Britain for a short period of time. "That was a lovely wish to make for your brother, lad," smiled Britain as he walked over to the colony, "Think we should go see him?" Matthew nodded his head and the Brit chuckled lightly before sighing sadly as he picked up his colony and carried him back to the large house they lived in. Matthew continued to look up at the nighttime sky and prayed.

_Please let my little brother live. Please . . . If you exist god, let Alfred live._

The older blonde carried Matthew inside the house and set him down on the carpeted floor. Arthur closed the door quietly. As the movements in the house seemed to come to a halt, both beings could hear the labored breathing upstairs. "Um . . . May I?" shyly asked Matthew.

The mother country looked down and smiled encouragingly, "He is your younger brother. As you both are to me. We should comfort Alfred the best we can and hope for the best."

_Hope for the best? Comfort him? Is my little brother going to die?!_

Matthew's eyes grew larger, revealing more of the violet-blue eyes to Arthur. "Don't cry lad," said Arthur as he bent down and hugged Matthew, "Alfred is strong. He'll make it through this and I won't give up on him." The Canadian's eyes gave way to raindrop tears and they fell from the gravity upon them. The tears fell more and landed on the Englishmen's shoulder. Feeling the wetness grow and grow, Arthur just rubbed Matthew's back and embraced him tighter. "Alfred will be fine, Mattie." Matthew pulled away gently and set his cub down. He looked at his big brother and nodded his head before walking quietly upstairs to his brother's room.

The hard breathing grew louder and louder as Matthew approached the door. He looked at the floor with his hope leaving him every small footstep. He couldn't think of a world by himself in this big empty house. Not without Alfred could Matthew be whole. His little brother was his life and yet he couldn't do a thing to help Alfred. Matthew noticed the door was cracked open a little and he peered in. The room was dark, except for the little light that seeped its way through the creak. As Matthew pushed the door open it squeaked loudly as if desperately crying for a drink of oil to ease the hinges. The breath picked up a little as a weak voice barely said, "Bri. . . tain?"

Matthew walked over to his twin's bed. He looked up and could not eve see Alfred. The Canadian only heard the soft panting of his little brother and the deep red bed spread that covered his bed. The bed was taller than he had remembered, which wasn't long ago he saw it. With all his might, Matthew jumped up onto the bed and crawled over to his little brother. Placing his child sized hand on Alfred's head Matthew said, "It's me Al, Mattie."

"M-Mattie . . ." panted Alfred, "Wh-ere's . . . Ah . . . br-broth . . .er?" The words seemed to grow weaker as the boy tried to stay awake.

Matthew found himself petting his twin's head. He looked on in pain as he hand repeatedly stroked the wet hair. The colony watched on as his brother sweat seeped down his face and onto the bed. His clothes seemed drenched already. "I-I'll get big brother. Just stay strong Al!" proclaimed Matthew as he jumped off the bed and ran down the carpeted stairs. "BIG BROTHER! BIG BROTHER BRITAIN!" screamed Matthew.

Almost immediately as Matthew finished the stairs, did he see the blonde country. "What is it Mattie? Is Alfred alright?" yelled the Brit as he ran to his colony.

"It's Alfred," cried the Canadian, "His breathing is labored and he's calling for you and he doesn't seem to have energy and getting weaker!"

"Mattie, run and tell a maid or butler to fetch the doctor, alright lad?" asked Britain seriously. Matthew nodded his head and felt new hot tears run down his cheek. Arthur let go of his shoulders and quickly ran upstairs to his little brother, his charge. Matthew bit back the urge to run back up the large steps as well and ran to find his nurse. The Canadian ran wildly around the large house until he found the butler instead.

He ran in front of him and bent down breathing hard after all his running. The older gentlemen, no more than his mid-twenties, bent down with worry in his eyes, "Young master?" Matthew looked at Winston's kind brown eyes and placed a timid hand on his face.

Winston was about to speak but was cut off by the child. "Pl-please," wheezed Matthew, "Fetch th . . . The doctor f-for my brother. Pl-please Winston . . . My brother needs help!"

Winston took a deep gulp and pated Matthew's small back. "Right away, young master." Winston smiled at the young colony and quickly left the house. The butler, once outside, ran towards the stable and withdrew the fastest horse. He quickly saddled the dark stallion and jumped on his back. Tapping his heels into the firm sides of the dark beast, it launched its front legs up and started at a fast pace towards the down.

_For my masters._

After Winston had left the house, Matthew ran upstairs to his brother. As he climbed each step he grew more exhausted from the energy it took to reach the top. Once he reached the top of the lengthy steps, Matthew raced to his brother's room and saw his big brother sitting next to his twin. "Al, it's alright. Just breathe calmly," encourage the Brit, "Help is coming for you." Matthew walked closed to the bed and noticed Alfred's breathing had worsened in the short span of time he had been gone. Arthur turned his head and looked at Matthew with strong eyes. Quickly, the Brit bent down and swept up his other colony and place him on the bed. "Watch over him while I go fetch him some water and a cooling cloth." With that Arthur went downstairs.

On the way, Arthur lost himself to his emotions. He could not stop his tears from falling as he ran to the kitchen and started heating water from the pump on the iron stove. When the water drew hot enough, Arthur poured it into a basin. He also grabbed a towel and a glass of cold water. Before going up, Arthur wiped his face clear of tears and took a deep breath to compose himself. Then, Arthur rushed up the stairs with the three objects and set them on the night stand next to Alfred's bed. He sat next to his charge and felt his forehead. "Is Alfred okay?" asked Mattie. Arthur looked at Matthew then at Alfred. He wasn't sure about Alfred's condition. He had never seen anything like it before.

_I . . . I don't know . . . When will the bloody doctor get here?! I've never felt a child so cold on a warm night in summer!_

"H-he's strong Mattie. Alfred stay awake okay, lad."

A pair of tired half lidded eyes opened to look at Arthur and Matthew. The eyes were like the sky, a feat that Arthur never would have believe to see. Matthew was startled by the eyes. The young colony had never seen his brother so tired. Ever since he could remember his twin, Alfred was always full of energy and alert. Looking into his eyes, Matthew knew something was deeply wrong with his twin. "Al?"

The boy smiled weakly and panted weakly, "I-I . . . f-fine . . ." Those two stuttered words seemed to take a lot out of the small child, because he started to breathe worse and close his eyes.

Arthur gritted his teeth and lifted the boy up. "America, drink some water, luv," he said as he offered the glass. The younger colony latched on and took a few light sips from the glass and pulled away. "Good boy. Relax and stay awake for us." Britain laid America back down on his pillow gently. With a gentle smile, Arthur soaked the cloth and wrung it out before placing it on the child's sweaty forehead. "America, stay strong for us. We both love you." Both saw the bright light of blue open again.

The child smiled lightly again and then the smile vanished as the panting increased. Britain noticed that Alfred's skin was not tan anymore. His skin was rather pale and his eyes were dull compared to his normal self. "Little brother, stay with us!" screamed Matthew. Arthur stared at Matthew with surprise. Never had he seen this child speak so loudly. Never. He reached out and rubbed Matthew's back for support. The two waited and Arthur felt relief when he heard the door open and close with footsteps coming up the stairs.

The Brit stood up and walked over to the door. When Arthur saw the doctor he felt so relieved at the sight. "Doctor, please he is in here," said Arthur, who was making room for the doctor to come in. The doctor walked by and Arthur quickly said, "He's cold to the touch, he has the sweats, and his breathing is labored." The older gentlemen sat on the bed beside America and checked him over. He pulled away after a few moments and motioned to meet the Brit outside of the room.

Once outside the doctor said, "The boy will not make it much longer. I am sorry. The most I can offer is an herb that you add to hot water. It will numb his pain until he passes on. I am truly sorry . . . A single man with no wife and two little ones to suffer the death of one. I wish there were more I could do," with that said the doctor place a small packet in Arthur's hand and left. Arthur looked at the packet. It was large and wrapped tightly in parchment. Taking a shaky breath, Arthur went downstairs and made some tea. Carefully unwrapping the packet, the Brit poured some of the powder into the cup and walked back up to Alfred's room.

As Arthur walked in he smiled at the sight and then feared gathered in his heart. He loved seeing the brother's together. It was a touching sight, seeing Alfred usually ignored his brother and went off to play. So seeing them together and witnessing their like similarities was a rare treat. However, Arthur didn't know how Matthew would take Alfred's death and he wanted Matthew away from his twin, because the Brit did not want the Canadian to get sick. Walking up to Alfred, he picked the boy up lightly and supported him. "Drink this Alfred and all of it," he ordered as he brought the cup to Alfred's lips.

Obediently, the young colony drank the contents of the cup and relaxed. Smiling, Arthur laid his charge back down and picked up Matthew, who reached out for Alfred. "Al . . ."Gently rubbing the colony's back, Arthur took Matthew out of the room and places him in his room. The giant bed for a small body stood tall and covered with a soft blue blanket covering the feathered mattress.

Tucking the Matthew in the bed, Arthur ordered, "Do not leave you room and do not enter Alfred's anymore until I say so. You must sleep Matthew in order to become strong and escape the frog." Arthur smiled at the boy and left, shutting his door firmly and walking back to Alfred's room. "America," Britain says as he sits beside his colony, "I love you, Alfred Foster."

The sky blue eyes opened again to look at Arthur kindly. "I l-o . . . ve y-ou too . . ." panted Alfred as he breathing quickened. Arthur looked on and let his tear show in front of his beloved Alfred. The boy closed his eyes and breathed harder and harder. All the Brit could do was watch and hold his charge's hand tight until it ended. After an hour of holding Alfred in his arms, the boy passed away. Arthur never thought that he could or would ever lose Alfred. He was strong and energetic.

"Al-fred . . ." whimpered the Brit as he hugged the lifeless body. He hugged the soft and small body with all his strength and cried. "N-no! ALFRED!" Crying and crying was all the poor mother country do for the death of his charge. Arthur kept on crying until Winston pulled him off the boy's dead body and forced him to his large canopy bed. He pulled the covers over his master and watched him sleep. Winston walked back to Alfred's room and bit his lip as he walked in and saw the poor dead body of the boy he helped raised.

He picked up Alfred's dead body and hugged him. Winston hugged him tightly. "Alfred Foster . . . You were a good child. A very good child and I hope you can find the light and join with the almighty God." After a few more moments of hugging the cold and still body, Winston tried to lower him, but found that he couldn't. Confused, Winston try pulling at the body. He pulled and pulled, but yet it didn't move. His heart racing at the fear of what could be happening, Winston let go of the body and felt small arms wraps around his neck. It wasn't soon after that he felt a small pain in his neck. The pain worsened as he tried to pull the body off again. Trying and trying, but to no avail. The butler grew weaker and weaker until he collapsed on the floor and was panting hard and barely conscious.

Alfred unconsciously kept on drinking from his butler until the lovely taste stopped flowing in his mouth. It was then he let go and jumped back in fear. He had killed his best friend and guardian when his big brother went away from time to time. "Winny?" poked Alfred. Nothing. His friend was gone and Alfred was alive and confused. Trembling in fear Alfred ran down the stairs and jumped repeatedly to get the doorknob at the front door. Finally, the child achieved his goal and twisted his small body around and opened the door. He looked backed at the place he had known for six years of his life. Since the day Arthur Kirkland, Francis Bonnefoy, and Tino Vainamoinen found him in the tall grass of his country. He would remember the day he chose Arthur over Francis and smiled happily at the memories as tears rain down his cheeks. This day was the day he would leave his loved ones, because this was the day he had died and been reborn.

Alfred closed his eyes and ran into the remainder of the dark night. The boy ran as fast as his small legs would carry him. He ran through the sleeping town he had visited many times. Passing the general store where Arthur would buy him a sweet if he were good. Past the riverbank that was where he had meet Arthur Kirkland in person and declared him his older brother. He ran towards the country. Towards the only place he could think of he wouldn't hurt anyone. Alfred ran faster and faster and then found himself on his butt in the loose dirt. Wincing and ready to cry he looked up with his large blue eyes with tears lining the bottom of his eyelids.

Alfred looked at saw two men who looked too similar. They both had brown hair, just one was darker than the others. The one had a friendly expression and his eyes seemed to be closed. The other had his open and looked to be olive green or darker, maybe hazel. They seem to be the same height and close in age. However, the curls on both the sides of the strangers head, just different sides, caught Alfred off guard. "VE?! Who?" The light browned haired on looked down, or seemed to look down because he never opened his eyes to Alfred. "Look Fratello! Un bambino!"

The other looked down and noticed Alfred on the verge of tears. "So, he's just a twerp. Too small for a meal."

The one that seemed to never open his eye came down closer to Alfred's face and smiled brightly. "VE! Fratello, look! Look! He has fangs in his mouth! He must be one of us!" The other looked in disbelief until the happy one took the other's hand and shoved one of his fingers in Alfred's mouth. He cursed under his breath and he felt a small, yet sharp pain and pulled his finger out to see a small droplet of blood. "Can we keep him Romano? Please?"

"Why should we? He's just a twerp!" replied Romano.

"Because, he is just like us! One of our kind, si?"

Romano looked at Alfred again and sighed heavily under his breath. "Fine, but I'm not taking care of the twerp. Give him to Gilbert or Kiku or someone Feliciano. You are not responsible to handle a child."

"VE! VE! VE! I AM TOO!" shouted Feliciano as he picked up Alfred.

The other grabbed Feliciano and shut his mouth shut and pulled him away towards the edge of town. "Then for starters, keep you Italian mouth shut! I don't want to get caught!"

Feliciano looked down at the child in his arms and smiled warmly. "Ciao~ I am Feliciano Vargas and this," said Feliciano as he motioned to the other, "Is my fratello Romano Vargas. You're the same as us, which makes us a family."

"Same as you?" question Alfred, who had stoped his tears.

The vampire nodded his head happily, "Si, we're vampiri and so are you fratello!"

Alfred looked at Feliciano as if he were nuts. "Fratello?"

"Si, twerp," said Romano, "It's Italian for brother. We are the same, si? So we are fratellos forever."

"Fratello," tested Alfred and smiled happily. "Fratello!"

Feliciano smiled and Alfred noticed Romano had a grin going. "There you go fratello! What is your name though?"

"I'm Alfred Foster."

"Alfredo!" smiled Feliciano, "I like Alfredo. It's yummy an-" A quick smack to Feliciano's head ended his thoughts.

"Dammit Feliciano that's pasta!" scolded Romano. "Let's go. We need to move." Feliciano nodded his head and looked at Alfred with a smile. The two Italian's started walking and Alfred looked over Feliciano's shoulder. He watched as the area he had known his entire life grow smaller and smaller until it was gone. Alfred didn't feel sad like he thought he would. He had Feliciano and Romano now. He would live through this and grow stronger. As he thought about this, Alfred hugged Feliciano tightly and drifted off. This caused Feliciano to smile happily and even Romano was touched by small innocent act.

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Review if you like! don't question the names quite yet... i have a plan ;)


	2. Rediscover

**So this story is holding my interest. I hope you like this story for what it is worth and the new chapter!**

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**~*~*~* Present Day *~*~*~**

The morning sun glowed in through the shades and onto his face. In response, the man yawned and woke up. He rolled over and checked his clock. Reading at only 6:50 he turned back over to sleep. However, someone yelling at him told him otherwise. "WAKE UP ALFREDO!" yelled Feliciano, "IT'S AMOST A TIME FOR SCHOOL!"

Moaning, Alfred stretched out on his bed and sat up. "Thanks Fel," Alfred yawned. He stood up in his boxers and Feliciano grinned before Alfred strictly said, "Out Fel. Now." With a small tantrum, Feliciano left Alfred to get ready for school. He stood up and twisted his torso until he heard his back crack. With a smile and now comfort in his back, Alfred got ready for school. He slid on his plaid purple and while slacks and made sure to tuck in his crisp, white oxford shirt. Quickly Alfred tied his black necktie around his neck loosely and pulled over his tan sweater vest. Alfred looked into a mirror and smiled as he ran his fingers through his hair. Once it looked like Alfred and his one piece was sticking straight up he smiled wider and slid on his sports jacket. Brown with a star on the one breast and the number fifty on his back. He loved his jacket a lot.

He walked across the hall to the bathroom and tried to open the door. "Occupied," came an accented female voice.

"Come on Elizabeta!" whined Alfred, "You always hog the bathroom in the morning and make me late for school!"

"Five minutes." Alfred leaned against the wall and counted every second. When he approached the last second the ivory door opened wide revealing a beauty. She had long light brown hair and deep green eyes. In her red plaid and white skirt and white blouse tucked in she looked good. Alfred eyed the perfectly tied black necktie tight around her slender neck as she said, "Your turn Mr. Impatient."

As Elizabeta moved aside and Alfred walked by he commented, "Looking good today Liz. The side ponytail is totally your style. Don't forget your purple blazer." The female vampire smiled as Alfred closed the door in her face. He heard her sniff sharply and shrugged it off. He started brushing his teeth clean and then rinsed. Smiling at his reflection he retreated to his room. Alfred approached his desk and gathered all his homework into a messenger bag and his cellphone, iPod, and wallet in one of his various pockets. Double checking everything he smiled and put his head phones around his neck and plugged them his iPod. After checking over again, Alfred picked up his glasses and left and went downstairs.

The noises he heard were always there to greet him during his school days. Alfred looked to see all of the others of his kind. There was Elizabeta Héderváry of Hungary, Natalya Arlovskaya of Belarus, and Lien Chung of Vietnam for the females. Then there was Romano and Feliciano Vargas of Italy, Abel Vos of the Netherlands or Holland as he puts it, Gilbert Beilschmidt of Prussia, Kiku Honda of Japan, and myself are the guys. We get along even though dudes totally own the girls, but they fight back hard enough. "Alfred, time for school!" screamed an obnoxious voice.

"I know Gil," sighed Alfred, "Quit lecture me I'm going." Alfred slipped on his brown leather shoes and left the house before anyone else. The blonde slipped on his crimson and black headphones and listened to some of his countries music. He felt happy and content with his life he'd had for four hundred years. Alfred made his way through the tall bronze gates of his school and walked the cobblestone path into the brick building. He counted the fifty three white floor tiles into his classroom to be shocked when he saw all of his housemates made it before him. The blonde smiled as Elizabeta smiled at him as he took his seat in the back and stared out of the window.

_Such a lovely day . . ._

Alfred didn't pay attention to his classes as he wondered about the outside world he longed to be with. The world of socialization and other countries. Like a robot programed, Alfred handed in assignments for each subject and wrote down notes, but his mind was somewhere else. It wasn't on the dry erase board, it was focusing about his past and his first family. He had day dreamed so much that Alfred didn't even realize school had ended until Feliciano came. "VE! ALFREDO! TIME TO GO A HOME!" he shouted merrily. Alfred smiled and got up and walked home with his roommates and his friends. He looked them all over and smile as he gazed over each one. Alfred knew he would kill anyone who tried to harm their 'family'. The smile only brightened when everyone compiled to try to get in and everyone laughed happily. Alfred went upstairs immediately and noticed his room was clean.

_. . . Gilbert . . . _

The albino came waltzing in carrying a pink basket with and arrangement of clothes. Colors from white to red and jeans galore with boxers and socks tucking in the side of the basket. In his other hand, for Gilbert held the basket with one hand holding it tight to his waist, he carried oxfords and school slacks on hangers. "All you laundry is done. Bruder you need to take care of your room better," commented Gilbert, "I can actually see the beige carpet again and I almost forgot about it running in here. Now take care of you clothes and use your basket for you dirty ones, not the floor."

"Yes mother dearest. Anything you say," teased Alfred.

Gilbert twitched lightly, "I'd like to see you clean the house and cook the meals buddy."

"Then don't complain about it and I won't be sarcastic with you."

"I AM THE AWESOME GILBERT BEILSCHMIDT! I CAN DO ANYTHING!" screamed Gilbert. Alfred heard a loud ding from downstairs and watched in horror as Gilbert turned girly on him. "OH! Dinner is done!" he yelled happily as he ran out of Alfred's room. Alfred smiled at Gilbert. He thought back of his first time meeting the albino. He was still a child. Only six years old and his completion scared Alfred as a child. The pale skin and pale hair was just too white in Alfred's opinion, but Gilbert's ruby eye's scared Alfred the most as a child. However, as time went on he learned to love the vampire. Gilbert was like his father . . . Well, maybe, mother in some cases that argued against Gilbert's manhood. "ALFRED! GET YOUR ARSCH DOWN HERE NOW FOR DINNER!"

"Coming mutter!" called Alfred.

Just as quickly as Alfred said it came the reply, "CALL ME MUTTER AGAIN YOU'LL FACE HELL!" Alfred smiled and set his messenger bag on his oak desk and came down the stairs for dinner.

"SURPRISE!" yelled everyone in the house. "HAPPY BIRTHDAY ALFRED!"

Alfred blushed lightly and smiled embarrassed. "Guys . . . And girls," winked Alfred, "Thanks for this. It's . . . It's really thoughtful of you all!" Tears of joy came down Alfred's pale face and he hugged everyone. It was his favorite dinner that Gilbert made. Pork loin with sauerkraut steamed by beer. He took a little and happily ate it. Eating his entire plate, Alfred looked down and noticed it was all gone, but he didn't get seconds.

Gilbert noticed this and brought it to attention. "Alfred, want some more?"

"No thanks, Gil," responded Alfred.

"Why not? This is one of your favorites. Are you getting sick?"

Alfred twitched and looked away. "I'm fine Gil, just leave it." Gilbert go up and checked Alfred's temperature. He opened Alfred's mouth and peered in, only getting slightly grossed out at what he saw. The albino the turned Alfred's head from side to side in wonder. This got Alfred mad and he slapped Gilbert's hands away. "ENOUGH!"

"The hell bruder? This isn't like you at all!" exclaimed Gilbert. "Normal you pig out and enjoy things to the best." Alfred twitched more and got up to go to his room. He slammed his door shut and quickly changed his clothes. Sporting dark blue jeans, a red V-neck shirt, and a black zip up sweater. Glancing in the mirror, Alfred removed his glasses, and came downstairs. Quickly, he tied on his combat boots, sliding the jeans over then.

"Going out," informed Alfred as he left. The cold breeze felt good on his face. He walked quickly throughout the streets of England to the countryside. Once there Alfred went farther by running into the woods and jumping around. He jumped off trees and rocks. Yes, this is what Alfred needed. He needed to let loose and when he heard a deer running around, Alfred licked his lips. Snapping into a primal state, Alfred started a hunt on the deer, his prey. By the time his prey had noticed Alfred's existence it was too late. He pounced on buck and latched his mouth on it's neck. The blood was the wrong flavor, but did it soothe Alfred's thirst. He was always quite ravenous and demanded more blood than the rest of his family. The blood started getting to him and he drew more quickly from the deer's neck. Alfred continued until the deer was dry of blood.

Alfred pulled off and licked his lip. "Better." He breathed in and felt calmer. The beauty of his surroundings finally processed itself through Alfred's mind. He noticed the tall trees and the leaves that coated the ground. The moon and stars shone down brightly on the area. Everything illuminated brightly and it shaded the forest like you could never imagine. Just enough moonlight and starlight seeped thought the thick foliage to cause unnatural beauty. Alfred hated to leave, but he knew he had a long essay to write. He used his knew strength to propel himself home faster. When he arrived, Alfred took a deep breath and walked in. Immediately he was saying he was sorry, which everyone forgave him because they knew the thirst had deadly sway over each of them.

After Gilbert forgave Alfred for, he literally lost count, and assumed to be roughly the seventy second time in row did Alfred go upstairs and started working on his paper. The Revolutionary War and he had to do a project on it. Alfred couldn't help but sigh at the subject. It was the last time he had saw Arthur Kirkland, who believed Alfred to be a normal America male wanting his freedom. The vampire started typing ups his essay on his Tobisha laptop quickly, because he knew this subject like the back of his hand. For his project, Alfred thought about making a visit to his storage locker and getting his old Revolutionary War things. Roughly an hour later, Alfred had finished his essay and was now laying down on his bed. As he stared up at his ceiling he finally said their names, "Arthur . . . Mattie . . ."

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**~*~*~* Elsewhere At a World Meeting*~*~*~**

Arthur Kirkland stared at the empty seat across from him. The seat that was supposed to be his charges seat if he had lived past his colonial era and through the Revolutionary War. Every meeting, no matter the location he stared at that empty spot. He wasn't the only one that stared. Matthew Williams would often find himself staring at his brother's chair. As he would drift to see the other empty chairs of the countries without of person to represent them. Why there was no one baffled the Canadian. There were close to ten chairs empty at the large table to seat all the countries.

To the both of them, their lives had a large chunk missing since they both awoke to Winston dead in America's room and America's body missing. Arthur had been blaming himself since that night, four hundred years ago exactly today. It was because of that his empire slowly started to wane with time, the guilt ate him more and more. Matthew however, always felt like his brother still existed, yet didn't exactly. Arthur Kirkland was the same. He knew that without the country it didn't seem right, yet operated well without a person to present it. They both felt that they should know who the country was and remember him, but it seemed so distant. Like a force was pushing them to forget.

"I believe we have reached a good stopping point for the day, ja?" asked a tall slicked haired blonde.

"Si, Germany. I believe so. However, I want to bring to mention the dead bodies found in my home country missing all of their blood not too long ago. I wanted to know if it could be related to the other dead bodies in Russia, Italy, the United States of America, or in Japan?" asked Antonio.

Russia turned his head and emitted a dark purple aura, "I believe Germany said we have reached stopping point, da?"

"Uh . . . Si, Ivan. Si," Shuddered the Spaniard.

Arthur continued to stare at the empty chair reserved for America and only pulled his stare off when he felt something poking his eyebrows. "What frog?"

"Please, 'ow am I ze frog? I am too beautiful to be a frog. I was wondering if I could spend ze night at your place?" asked France.

"Why you of all people fro-" But Arthur was cut off by Matthew squeak and turning of his head from side to side. It looked like he was looking for someone.

"BROTHER!?" he yelled quietly.

Ivan Braginsky of Russian and Antonio Carriedo of Spain looked at him oddly and asked in unison, "Brother?" Arthur stood up and walked over to the poor Canadian. He rubbed the lad's shoulder calmly and hummed a lullaby he used to sing for him and America when they were young.

"It's okay Mattie. You can stay with me and so can the frog . . ." gloomed Britain as he continued to stare at the empty chair. The Brit then turned his head to face to the others and explained for Canada, "Matthew had a twin brother who was supposed to be the United States of America, but died in my charge when he was only six years old of an unknown virus. For the bloody life of me I can't remember his name or anything too important of him." The other countries looked at Arthur and Matthew with sad eyes and the atmosphere changed completely.

It took no more than fifteen minutes to get to Arthur's house. Francis immediately noticed the atmosphere was dark and sad. Matthew didn't ever care. He had sworn he heard his brother's voice. The young man now sat on the guest bed Arthur had offered, holding his polar bear tightly. "What was his name? Why can't remember?" he asked himself softly.

"Who?" asked the polar bear cub.

The Canadian looked at his bear and said, "My brother. I can't remember his name . . . Or what he looked like . . . I can't remember him. But I know I had a brother!" The bear just looked up with an innocent look. Matthew took the look for a caring gesture, when it was truly the bear wondering who Matthew was. The poor guy let some tears loose and hugged his bear more.

Down in the parlor, Arthur was drinking red wine from his pirate years with Francis. The wine had a delicate bouquet with a hint of fruit to it. Not to mention sweet where it was deadly. "So, Arthur. Care to explain more about this Amerika person?" The Brit shook his head in response and chugged the remained of his wine. As he poured himself more, Francis started to make himself remember. "Ze most I recall is you and I fighting for brother-ship of Amerika. But I don't remember what he looked like." Arthur only nodded his head again and got up. He quickly drank his glass again and slunk to his room. He needed sleep. Sleep would help him recover or at least he hoped. Once Arthur let his head hit his pillow he was out like a light.

Alfred had awoken early that morning and slip on a pair of light faded blue jean and a light blue hooded to cover his black shirt. He needed to go to his storage locked for his Revolutionary War thing for school Things like his uniform, gun, sword, and documents he possessed. He grabbed his wallet and cell and left for his storage locker in downtown London. However, he was stopped by Gilbert who asked him to stop and drop off Lien's lunch. Alfred agreed and took her lunch and left the house.

The morning light was not fun for anyone. Arthur felt like he had a hangover, but then he realized he did. It wasn't until he was downstairs and meet with the frog in the kitchen. "The meeting was postponed and I thought you, Mathieu, and moi go out and enjoy ze day." Britain almost refused so he could crawl back in his bed and sleep his days away, but comprehended it would probably be good it he went out and enjoyed himself, even if it was with the frog. Arthur nodded his head in approval and went to go change. He came back down and met with Matthew and frog face. They left his house and went into town for some shopping and lunch. First store was a clothes store that Arthur thought Matthew would enjoy.

Arthur watched as Matthew took to the hoodie selection with great awe. He smiled at the Canadian's joy. He heard the ringing of a bell, which meant the front door opening. Arthur looked and his eyes opened wide, because he saw another Canada. Francis looked at Arthur and noticed it too and stared at Alfred. The only one that didn't was Alfred at all was Matthew, because he was at the cash registering getting the same light blue hoodie Alfred had on. However, the cashier postponed Matthew's purchase to run and hug Alfred. Caught up Lien's embrace Alfred chocked out, "Hey Lien, forgot your lunch again." He dangled the bento box in the air.

The petite Vietnamese girl pulled off and took the bento box from Alfred smiling. "Thanks Al!" she shrieked. "You're the best em trai (brother) ever."

"Well to be fair you're a good sister," winked Alfred.

"ALFRED!" teased Lien, "You got me distracted from my job. If I get fired it's your fault." Alfred smiled as Lien went back to the cash register and finished Matthew's purchase and disappeared into the employee lounged.

Matthew put on his new hoodie and walked over to Arthur and Francis who were now staring at the both of them. He look at the object they were staring at and couldn't believe his eyes. He walked over to the guy and tapped his shoulder lightly. Alfred didn't notice the tap as he spoke to Lien when she reappeared again. "Next time you remember your lunch or I'll eat it, okay?" harassed Alfred playfully.

"Yeah, yeah. Bring it Alfred," threatened Lien.

Alfred backed away. "I'm teasing and besides I have to run to get stuff for school, as you should know why. So see you at home tonight Lien. Bye," waved Alfred as he left. All three countries looked at each other before Matthew and Francis followed Alfred, while Arthur stayed behind to talk to Lien.

"So Miss," started Arthur politely, "May I ask who that gentlemen was?"

Lien looked at Arthur in surprise and spoke softly, "My brother doesn't go that way."

Arthur swore he jaw dropped to the ground and his face turned beet red. As he waved his hands in front him and shook his head he said, "Neither do I. I was just curious. Could you tell me where he goes to school or something?"

"Okay. Al is my brother and you're acting like a creepier, so get out of this store and never come back."

"Please Miss," begged Arthur, "It's not like that. You see I'm a country. I am the UK, Britain, and England. I am Arthur Kirkland. He looks like a country I took in, Canada so I was just wondering."

Lien froze and took a deep breath. She had heard about Arthur from Alfred. He had spoken highly of him. Not to mention Lien was the represented of Vietnam before they forgot about her. "Alfred is my big brother. That's all you're getting from me. Now leave or else!" she warned.

Arthur got the message and got out of the store. He looked all over for Francis and Matthew until he just used his nose to find them. Francis wore a rose scented cologne, more like perfume really. None the less he found them tailing Alfred as he continued to his storage locker. He walked a few more blocks humming to himself and finally walking in towards his locker. Alfred whistled and took out his identification card. After sweeping the piece of plastic across an analyzer the locked unlocked itself and Alfred when in to look for the things he needed. "Geez!" Alfred talked to himself, "I need to clean this thing out." He continued to dig around, unaware of the three followers he had looking at him and all his stuff in his locker. Finally he found the things he wanted.

As he lifted his out uniform up, Arthur got a faint feeling about Alfred. However, Alfred packed his things in a box and put his sword and gun in a carrying case. He smiled at himself for his accomplishment and closed his locker. After a quick scan of things, for he felt watched, he started his walk home. Francis notice something on the ground and waited patiently for Alfred to get far enough away before moving in on the object in question. Little did Francis know he would be having a race against Arthur to get it. After a scuttle and some harsh words, with France ending up on his butt, Arthur picked up the piece of plastic. He smiled. "Our subject of interest goes to Gakuen Hetalia."

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So latest chapter, hoped you enjoyed and will review. Helps me keep writing with them! Next chapter Gakuen Hetalia!


	3. Hello Again

New chapter, so enjoy, and, oh, Review please. Things should be picking up a bit more. Thanks for the review!

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Alfred smiled on his way home. He always smiled. It was his things that he could do and no one could take it away from him. Smiling was his vice and made his new family happy. He didn't care that he had turned four hundred and six years old yesterday, yet would look around nineteen for the rest of his life. No, Alfred was the most carefree vampire under his roof, actually Gilbert's seeing he paid for the house years ago. Walking with pride and jump in every step, Alfred found his way home. The light pink house was always easy to tell that it was home, because it was the only pink house on the street and maybe the whole town. Light pink with a red roof, yeah defiantly noticeably in England. However, this was Alfred's home as well as his families. They had forged many memories in this house after living there for only three years.

The America walked through the door that matched Santa Claus's suit and cheeks. He was greeted by a sweet aroma and stopped dead in his tracks. He knew the smell for way to familiar for comfort as he flinched and tried to leave. Backing up slowly and quietly Alfred made it outside of the door. As he tried to close the door a pale hand stopped it from closing.

_SHIT! I thought I got lucky this time!_

The crimson door was pulled open and the other hand bursted out from the inside of the house. Before Alfred could eve pull away or try to fight off the hand, he was pulled inside. With a loud _thunk_ Alfred wheezed to catch his breath as he heard the door close. Then he felt the cool dead weight on his middle as the albino straddled him. Groaning loudly Alfred choked, "Gil off me now . . . I have homework."

With barely any slurs, Alfred heard, "Why I-I mean you have another day. It's only Saturday or are you cutting classes again?" Alfred looked up and saw the drunk face looking at him. "Did you cut again Alfred?" repeated Gilbert. The younger vampire shook his head and flinched when the knife landed a half an inch away from his head. "ARE YOU LYING TO ME BRUDER?" Alfred shook his head again quickly. The albino started to cry and he rested his head on Alfred's chest. Feeling the tears sinking through his clothes and onto his chest, Alfred sighed and ran a hand through Gilbert's hair.

"Gilbert you need to stop drinking," stated Alfred. The German, technically Prussian, sat up straight and looked at Alfred with his tear stained face. Then, like a dog, he shook his head left and right rapidly. "Gilbert, when you drink you get weird and emotional," explained Alfred to his drunk guardian, "Then when you are sober he regret drinking."

He knew that Gilbert only drank when he was feeling down and needed to vent. After four hundred years with him and his problems, did Alfred understand Gilbert's way of thinking. Gilbert has many phases when he is drunk. However, it depended solely on how stressed he was for the phases to appear. When Gilbert not that stressed he would go around and complain and bitch to everyone. When he was moderately stressed, Gilbert would break things in fits of rage or sorrow. When Gilbert was highly stressed or something was really on his mind he would strip and get really sexual. Something was defiantly on Gilbert's conscious if he was naked, crying, and now grinding against Alfred's manhood. "Mein bruder," whispered the albino, "Could you please 'enlighten' me?"

"No Gil," pushing Gilbert off of his thighs and manhood, "You're drunk and you'll regret when you wake up." Alfred stood up and picked up the base and black carrying case. As he walked upstairs, he said, "Not to mention you really were like my mother."

Alfred continued up the stairs and heard the crying from Gilbert. "NO ONE LOVES MEIN!" shouted Gilbert. It didn't faze him because Alfred was slowly counting to ten. When he reached ten, Alfred heard Gilbert scream with anger. "WAIT! ALFRED I AIN'T YOU MUTTER! I'M A MAN NOT A WOMEN!" Alfred smiled as the comments. This was normal for Gilbert and had learned the best solution was to avoid him. All of the family learned that very quickly, especially when Gilbert stripped down to his birthday suit.

Placing the box on his neatly made bed, thanks to Gilbert, Alfred withdrew his sword and his rifle. He smiled as he eyed the hints of age and wear on them. "God I am so old," chided Alfred to himself. He continued to look at his weaponry of the time and noticed a scratched on the side of his rifle. Sliding his hand down the scratch, Alfred whispered, "That time . . . It has to be . . ." Alfred started thinking back during the Revolutionary War. He mostly focused on the time he got the scratch on his gun. Gritting his teeth, Alfred put the box he carried onto the floor and crawled into his bed. He closed his eyes shut and drowned out Gilbert's cries.

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**~*~*~* Revolutionary War: That Time *~*~*~**

It had been raining for what seemed like days. The mud grew thicker and thicker with each passing day. The skies seemed angry and wanted the fight to be over with as soon possible. Standing at the front lines, Alfred looked at the single redcoat left. He knew this man so well. He knew him like the back of his hand. It was Arthur, his big brother. Alfred had not seen him since he left with the Vargas brother in the summer of 1613. The American always desired to see his brother, but with this war he soon realized that his brother had forgotten about him. It was explained to him by Feliciano Vargas that for some reason when a person turned his or her loved ones would forget them. They would feel familiar if they saw them, but would forget the person's appearance and name.

Alfred closed his eyes and looked up at the sky. It seemed fitting for it to be grey with splashes of black. Yes, the depressed coloration was what Alfred was feeling like on the inside. Confused. Depressed. Hurt. They all fit, for he was forgotten by his brother. The truth only pierced deeper and deeper throughout the war. Alfred looked back at the lone redcoat and wished it could have been like when he was child. The Brit's arms wide open to catch him as he jumped into them, but this wasn't then. It was now and he was Alfred's enemy. "Hey Britain," addressed a younger Alfred, "All I want is my freedom. I'm no longer a child . . . Nor . . . Your little Brother. From now on . . . Consider me INDEPENDENT!"

"Bloody joker must be referring himself to his country as whole . . . I admire that, but," muttered Arthur to himself before he charged at his forgotten little brother. His bayonet ready on his gun as he charged. With a quick jab Arthur thought he had the American as his rifle flew away from his and landed in the thick mud. Both panting hard, the Brit aimed his rifle at Alfred. The American braced himself for the worse, even though he knew that the injury would not threaten his life in any way. "I WANT ALLOW IT!" panted Britain in rage, "You idiot! Why can't you ever follow things through to the end?"

"READY! AIM!" shouted one of the humans, who ordered a squad of rebellious colony members.

Alfred looked at the bayonet aiming at his face in shock. However, more shocked gathered in Alfred as Britain's gun lowered and he panted, "There's no way I could shoot you. I can't." The Brit ended his shocking statement with his gun being flung to the ground. Making a muddy splash on impact and slid across the slippery ground. Arthur couldn't bring himself to hurt the boy with eyes like the sky that seemed forever lost. The boy seemed familiar to Arthur, yet was a stranger at the same time. Alfred's sky blue eyes widen when he saw Arthur fall to his knees and held his face in his hand crying. "Why? Dammit why?! It's not fair!" Arthur didn't know why he couldn't hurt the boy, something inside him screamed at him not to and he abided to his feelings for once.

"You know why." Stated Alfred sadly. The America recalled a time when he was younger. A time when he was remembered by his brother.

Looking up at his brother he saw bright emeralds for eyes and a warming smile. The sky meeting a thick forest. Arthur held out his to a child Alfred. The child Alfred closed his eyes as an innocent giggle escaped his lips. The Alfred then took his brother's hand happily. Giving him all of his trust to the Brit.

"What happened?" asked Alfred as he came back from his memory, "I remembered when you were great . . ."

_And when you remembered me . . ._

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**~*~*~* Present *~*~*~**

"ALFREDO! WAKE UP!" screamed Feliciano. "YOU HAVE TO GO TO A SCHOOL NOW! NO SKIPPING!" Normally, Alfred would get up and stretch. However, today he shot straight out of his bed and looked at Feliciano with wide eyes. "VE! What's wrong Alfredo?" asked the Italian.

"Feliciano," asked Alfred, "Is it really Monday?"

The Italian had looked at Alfred and grown quite serious, because Alfred never called the younger Italian by his full first name unless he was asking for important. "Si," was all Feliciano said as he walked out.

_I slept for a day and half?! _

Alfred looked at the clock and saw he had less time to prepare. Quickly Alfred pulled off an oxford from the hanger and pulled it one. Just as fast as the oxford, Alfred's plaid pants and tanned sweater vest appeared on his body. He ran to the bathroom and found it vacant, a first in three years, and brushed his teeth violently. After the rather messy brushing job, Alfred ran back across the hall to his bedroom. He looked around frantically for his things and literally just put his arm on his desk and brought it across the oak. Holding his bag at the edge of the desk most of the papers he had been working on were compacted inside the olive green bag. He zipped his bag shut after throwing in papers off the floor into the satchel. Alfred remembered his project was due today and cursed under his breath as he gathered the box, his school bag, and his carrying case on his bed. He ripped out the silver travel drive from his laptop, only after double checking his essay and other project material was saved on the hardware, and zipped it in the front pocket of his bag. Throwing on his jacket, Alfred grabbed his cellphone and project material and booked it downstairs.

Gilbert was sitting at the table talking to the girls as Alfred tripped downstairs. "Alfred?" asked Gilbert.

"Gilbert I'm sorry, but could you please write a permission slip stating that my Revolutionary officer's sword and rifle are safe and you know the rest?" The albino stared at Alfred for a second and went into the kitchen. Within a few moments Gilbert returned with a signed piece of paper stating what Alfred had asked for. Alfred took it and thought he could kiss Gilbert on the lips, but didn't. "Thanks Gil, see you later tonight bro!" yelled Alfred as he ran out the door, after slipping on his shoes. "Alright, if I run to school I should have enough to time to drop of the materials for my project and run to lab and print off my papers. Yeah, that sounds right," Alfred panted to himself.

Alfred ran down the street, yelling sorry a lot, and dodged traffic, for he didn't pay attention the traffic lights. He bolted inside Gakuen Hetalia and into his history class. There he dropped the box and carrying case in the back of the classroom. As he ran out of the room and quickly shoved the slip to his history teacher. Alfred sprinted to the computer lab and printed out his documents after a quick re-read of them. He carried the papers back with him to his first period class with ten minutes to spare. Claiming his seat, Alfred went through his back and found the papers he needed and worked on the incomplete ones. He breezed through it all within the ten minutes. After all Alfred had graduated high school about thirty times by now and has gone to college and earned various degrees throughout his long life. He patted himself on his back for always going through his math and writing down the problems before ever working on a problem, for today it had come in handy.

Alfred looked up right in time as the bell rang for first period. However, first period is actually homeroom that lasts ten minutes and is where teachers to roll call. Alfred's actual first period class was his foreign language class, the only class he ever had to take time on. This time around Alfred had chosen to learn Swedish. After all he had learned Italian from the Vargas brothers, German from Gilbert, Hungarian from Elizabeta, Vietnamese from Lien, Dutch from Abel, Japanese from Kiku, and Belarusian and Russian from Natalya from his family. Alfred had also learned Chinese, Spanish, Korean, French, and about ten others. So Alfred is getting limited on what new languages to learn. His teacher was Mr. Oxenstierna and his class was taught online.

So the homeroom period was 'taught' by the gym teacher Mr. Densen. "Alright, in your seats now!" ordered Densen. "Today we have two new students joining Gakuen Hetalia." Alfred looked at the door as two figures appeared. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Densen checking off people. However, Alfred was taken aback by who he saw, his twin and his big brother. "Please introduce yourselves to you some of classmates."

Arthur took the first step up and cleared his throat before he spoke. "I am Arthur Kirkland. Pleasure to meet all of you." Arthur looked over his shoulder and saw the timid Canadian clutching his polar bear tightly.

Clutching his bear more and looking at the floor, Matthew said quickly, "I'M MATTHEW WILLIAM FROM CANADA. I'M SHY AND HAPPY TO MEET YOU ALL AND HOPE WE CAN BECOME FRIENDS!" Arthur swore he felt his eye twitch. He wasn't expecting the quickly outburst from the Canadian.

"Alfred," called the gym teacher, "Can you show these two around for the day and help them? They both have the same classes as you." Alfred nodded his head and the two other countries walked over to Alfred. Arthur smiled to himself as he walked over to the American. He had paid a lot of money to get Alfred's schedule and to organize his and Matthew's to duplicate it exactly.

_Shit! Why me out of all of us in here?_

"So what's your name chap?" asked Arthur.

Alfred looked up and was interrupted by Elizabeta saying, "Wow you and Matthew look alike Al!" He casually glared at her until she left him alone. "Sorry Al," yelled Elizabeta as she left for her next class.

"So for that. She's my sis so to speak," informed Alfred, "I'm Alfred."

"I got that lad, but your full name. It is impolite to not introduce yourself fully," chaste Arthur.

With a giant sigh Alfred replied, "I'm Alfred F. Jones." Arthur and Matthew tensed a bit. The name Alfred seemed familiar. Too familiar to them.

"N-nice to meet you Alfred. I'm Ca-" stuttered Matthew as he got elbowed in his ribs by Britain. After a cough and faint blush he said, "I'm Matthew Williams."

Alfred looked up lazily before replying, "I know dude. Don't need to repeat yourself. I heard you loud and clear, though you should speak up a bit. Stuttering isn't good for you, especially if you are talking public speaking with Mrs. Potter . . . Old bat that will never die . . . She's like a cockroach."

Both countries were a little worried and confused about this Potter lady that Alfred was ranting about. Cockroach. Old as the dinosaurs. Old bat. Never die. They were worried and thought of a monster. However, what happened in the next few moments ended with Alfred laughing his America ass off. Matthew had looked over his shoulder and screamed an inhuman scream as he met steel blue eyes staring at him. Arthur looked at Matthew with a freaked look on his face at the scream. "Klass började minuter sedan!" (class started minutes ago) said a man through a screen.

"Who?" asked Arthur as he flicked the screen.

"Morgon ," replied Alfred, "Två nya elever har anslutit sig till denna klass."

The man on the screen just gave a cold hard stare to the men as the screen moved away. "What did you bloody say?" asked Arthur, amazed.

"I said 'morning Mr. Oxenstierna. Two new students have joined this class.'"

"I see," said Arthur. Both countries stared at the forgotten one throughout the entire class. Arthur focused very hard on Alfred. He had wondered why the boy was so familiar to him. His name almost seemed right. The boy's looks were vague on Arthur's mind. The Brit tried as hard as he could to remember his lost colony. His charge . . . Yet he couldn't remember what he or possibly she looked like. Arthur was so caught up in trying to remember why Alfred was so familiar to him that he didn't hear the bell ring. He jumped when Alfred shook him.

"Dude," spoke Alfred, "It's time for our next class. Math. Follow me m'kay?"

Arthur nodded his head and followed Alfred with Matthew following the Brit right behind him. They looked like a row of duckings following their mother, which is something to say with Arthur's age. He was so old and remembered when the Roman Empire built him a house before the great empire passed away. "Hey Alfred," called many people as he walked by them. Alfred nodded his head, smiled, or waved his hand in acknowledgement.

"So are you like . . . Uh . . . Popular Alfred?" asked Matthew as he hugged his bear tighter.

Going into a room and sitting down in the back Alfred noticed the Canadian's question. "O, I guess you can say that," Alfred said as he rubbed the back of his head, "I play baseball for the school usually, but this year I didn't play."

"Why didn't lad?"

"One, it is Alfred. Two, it is a personal issue," replied Alfred, "Now sit and get ready for class." Arthur nodded his head and turned his attention to the front of the room and a tall women stood up. She had shoulder length black hair with some grays, signifying her to be middle aged. She had dark brown eyes that radiated kindness and, at the same time, distilled strict rule over her class.

"Today we will learn more about the functions of and the way to find vertical asymptotes. But first hand up your homework." Everyone seemed too grown as some pulled pieces of paper from a folder, while others tore it out of a spiral notepad. Alfred tore his work out from his American flag spiral notepad and grinned at the work that was completed ten minutes before school started. Most of the other students had stayed behind to work with Mrs. Hollow, the calculus teacher, and still spent all night trying to get the right steps down. The papers were handed up and into her hand. She smiled and put all the papers, which created a really thick pile, into a folder before starting her lesson.

After about twenty minutes into the lesson, Matthew turned over to look at the man in question. He was appalled when he saw Alfred sleeping. The American's head resting on his notebook and textbook, for they were stacked on top of each other. "ALFRED F. JONES!" yelled the teacher, who threw a dry erase marker at his head, "Get up here and do this problem on the board." Alfred snapped awake and stood up mechanically. Bending over, Alfred picked up the marker and he walked like a robot to the dry erase board. There, he examined the problem on the board for a few seconds. Quickly he uncapped the marker and jotted down some steps that made no sense to Matthew or Arthur. After a few more seconds, Alfred had finished the problem and was walking back to his seat. "Impressive Mr. Jones, just don't let me see you sleeping in here again," warned the teacher.

Alfred nodded his head sleepily and sat down in his seat again. Mrs. Hollow pointed out some of the steps Alfred had taken to achieve his final answer and stated it was the shortcut. Matthew stared back at Alfred again. He was staring out the window. For some reason this hurt Matthew as he gazed on. Soon Mrs. Hollow had finished her lesson and gave the remaining time to work on homework, which scared the living crap out of Arthur. It was three pages long with thirty problems in all. He looked over to see Matthew and saw the same shock in the young Canadian's eyes. Not only do all the problems, but have to fully write the answers out the long way and if it wasn't all down five points would be taken away from their averages. The Brit turned his shoulder and saw that Alfred was staring out the window with his book closed. He walked over and turned light red, "Will you help me?"

"Sure, pull a seat up." Arthur did and started with his homework. Soon Matthew joined him and they both were working hard. Alfred only interrupting to stop a mistake. Matthew looked at the notebook that Alfred had sitting on his calculus book and was startled. He tapped Britain's elbow with his own, making look like he had bumped into it by accident, and moved his eyes to look at the notepad. Catching on, Arthur looked at it at nearly jumped. On the lined piece of paper that showed, seeing it was a spiral notepad, was problems twenty-eight through thirty done.

"Say Alfred," started Arthur, "Are you some mathematical genius or something?"

The Canadian look alike looked at Arthur and said, "Nope. I just know what I am doing, so I get done quickly." Matthew smiled and then both he and Arthur flinched. Alfred smiled back and took a deep breath and wished he hadn't.

_Sweet . . . Smells so sweet. Must be rich and so delicious and . . . SHIT! SNAP OUT OF IT ALFRED!_

A horrible rumbling sound sliced through the air suddenly. They both looked at Alfred as he winced and bit his lip. The American quickly gripped his stomach and shot one of his hands in the air. "Mrs. Hollow, not feeling good. Can I go to the nurse?" She looked up from her papers and nodded her head before turning back to grade. Alfred gathered his things and booked it out. Confused, Arthur followed Alfred, ignoring Mrs. Hollow's scolding. He tailed Alfred as he ran outside of the school and down the street. Alfred knew he was being followed, but ignored it and ran into an alley. There he jumped up and started running on top of the roof tops. Arthur turned into the alley, which was a dead end alley and saw nothing. He was shocked, because he swore he had seen Alfred go into this ally. Arthur went in and investigated the ally. Inside he found Alfred's cell phone, which had fallen out of his pocket when he had jumped. The Brit started flipping through the phone.

It was an iPhone five. The cover, to no disbelief of Arthur, was a snap on of the American flag. Shaking his head, the Brit went through the many pictures on the thing. He got slightly frustrated at his inability of knowing how to work the device, but he figured it out of a few minutes. After he accidently pushed down and pressed the home button, then the app to the internet, and then an app for a zombie game. Clicking through all the pictures, Arthur found one of Alfred and many people in the shot. It was in front of a pink house. "Pink? Dear lord," muttered Arthur, "At least it will be easy to find." Arthur slid the phone in his pocket and walked back the Gakuen Hetalia for the Canadian.

Alfred ran home as fast as he could. He used the upstairs door to get in and nearly fell down the steep steps as he came down. "GILBERT!" Alfred called. "GILBERT!" Alfred raced down the steps faster to the kitchen and fell. The noise scared the albino as he came running to the source. He realized what was happening to Alfred when he saw the sweat pouring down his young face, the hard panting, the crazed look in his eyes, and then the fangs. "H-help m-me," panted Alfred. Gilbert nodded his pale head and turned to the refrigerator. There he pulled out a blood bag and rushed to Alfred's side. Alfred grabbed the packet and groaned as the blood hit his lips when he sucked in the crimson fluid.

Normally Alfred hated bagged blood. The taste was rather dulled because it sits and the active cells weaken and vibe less. Therefore, Alfred always tried his best to go to the forest and hunt. Fresh blood, even though it was animal blood, was better than dead or weak blood in his opinion. However, when it came to his urges causing him to lose his mind he never cares. In the long run, blood was blood. "Better bruder?" asked Gilbert as Alfred finished his bag. He received a nod from Alfred and smiled. Patting his head, Gilbert drew Alfred's arm up and pulled him up. The albino carried the younger vampire to his bed and removed his shoes. "Sleep bruder. Sleep is what you need."

Shutting his eyes, Alfred drifted off. When the snores mixed in the air, Gilbert smiled and kisses Alfred's cheek. "Cute," he said as he got up and left the room. He went downstairs, picked up the empty blood bag, and threw it away. With quick press of the button Gilbert called the school up. "This is Gilbert Beilschimdt calling on behalf of my adoptive son Alfred F. Jones. I came and picked him up from school after receiving a call from him. I didn't sign him out like I should have, because he looked very ill," with a nod and smile Gilbert listened to other end before he continued, "Thank you for understanding. Alfred should be back tomorrow and if not the next day."

Gilbert hung up the phone and started cooking dinner. Before he knew it, the house filled with returning people. All dressed in their uniforms. All had smiles on their faces and Gilbert knew how lucky they all were to have each other. He would glance up from time to time and see different faces or different clothes, but what shocked him was the appearance of a face he had not seen in a long time and an entirely new face.

_. . . O shit . . . Eyebrows . . ._

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Review if you like!


	4. Thirsting

Yay new chapter!

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Gilbert was trying his hardest to remain calm and in control. To be honest, he was doing rather well then what he thought. He had feared the presence of the blonde eyebrow menace during the era of pirates and had never wished to cross paths with him again. Yet here he was in his kitchen, standing tall with pride just like then. The albino just kept his focus on cooking until he caught a lovely scent in the air and looked at the new face. He smelled good and that was all that Gilbert was focused on. He didn't even realize that he was pretty much staring at Alfred with a different part, attitude, and curl length.

_He smells sweet. I wonder who he is . . ._

"VE! GILBERT!" screamed Feliciano.

Tearing his gaze off Matthew, Gilbert looked at Feliciano and glared. "Ruhig! Alfred schläft," snapped Gilbert.

"Ve! Ve!" quieted Feliciano, "Why is Alfredo sleeping?"

"Weil Alfred hatte einen angriff und schläft sie ab." (Because Alfred had an attack is sleeping it off) Gilbert said as he lifted his eyebrow to hint.

Catching the lift in of the albino's eyebrow, Feliciano nodded his head. He finally understood why Gilbert was speaking in German, because he didn't want the new guests to know of their special condition. "Okay! Well Gilbert, we have some new amici!" (friends) yelled Feliciano happily, "Arthur from England and Matthew from Canada."

"Ja, ja." Gilbert didn't really acknowledge the humans in his house. He was way too busy cooking for his family. He stirred the vegetables around in a wok and then added meat to it. The sizzling sound echoed even after the albino had placed the lid on the wok, then again it could have been amplified from him stirring the same contents in another wok. Arthur raised his rather large eyebrow at the albino and stared at him.

_This bloke seems familiar . . . Too familiar._

"Ve!" broke Feliciano, "I'm going to get Alfredo!"

Raising a silver brow Gilbert smacked the Italian with a ladle on top of his head. "ALFRED'S SICK! LET HIM SLEEP!" shouted Gilbert. Feliciano looked up at Gilbert with opened eyes that were tear lined. The sight shocked Gilbert, because Feliciano never opened his eyes unless he was utterly shocked or afraid or hurt. The crying was a daily habit for him and always got on everyone's nerves when he cried for hours for no specific reason. With a heavy sigh, Gilbert said, "I'm sorry Fel. I'm just worried and stressing still."

The last part got through to the Italian as he snapped into his closed eyes and happy disposition. "It's okay Gilbert, I'm mean you didn't mean and everything, so it's cool!" exclaimed Feliciano, hoping to avoid a drunk Gilbert in the near future.

Gilbert immediately twitched in response and glared at Feliciano. "Out of the kitchen and keep quiet or you'll wake Alfred." The albino turned back to his stove and opened a medium sized pot. He stired the light yellow broth that was lacking the normal large noodles and lumps of vegetables like carrots, celery, and onions with chicken. It was Asian chicken egg noodle soup, without the noodles and additives, for Alfred. Feliciano realized how serious the situation was now and left the room with Arthur and Matthew in tow. Feliciano showed the two countries the living room and turned on the television. "What do you a guys want to watch?"

"I don't really watch much of the telly, so I don't mind the channel Feliciano," replied Arthur.

Feliciano looked at Matthew, who gulped and felt pressured. "I . . . Uh . . . I like hockey and the . . . Ah . . . cooking ch-channel." Feliciano looked happy and flipped the channel to a hockey game. It was a Canadian team against an American team and score was even, at zero and in the final round. "MAPLE!" exclaimed Matthew loudly.

The Italian just cocked his head to the side with a confused look and watched the games. Within the last few seconds the American team had scored one goal and the Canadians were pushing the pace. Occasionally, Feliciano would look at Matthew and tower in fear as he saw the once quiet boy jumping up and down and booing at the American's. Even Arthur was looking at the country with blank eyes because he had always known the Canadian to be quiet and loving and gentle. Matthew hollered at the Canadian's to hurry and score to go into overtime and beat team USA, but in the end the overtime worked against the Canadians. Matthew twitched as he sat down quietly in disbelief. "I'm a gonna change out of my school clothes now, can you two wait a few momenti?"

"Ummm, it is your house mate. Do what you will," responded Arthur.

"Maple, maple, maple, maple," repeated Matthew at the loss of his hockey team.

Feliciano looked at Matthew in worry and left to go change. He walked upstairs and decided to peak into Alfred's room. As he peeked he saw the blonde panting in his sleep. The sheets torn around, yet covering Alfred's tall body and eyes moving under his closed lids rapidly, signifying that he was dreaming hard. "Ve . . . Alfredo . . ." Feliciano closed the door quietly and skipped to his rooms saying what he was doing. Arthur and Matthew waited passionately downstairs as Feliciano changed and nearly died when they noticed two girls staring at them.

"No, Lien. It can't be true," said Elizabeta.

"Yes it is! He's the pervert that wanted to know about Alfred."

_Shit. Her. This will be hard to explain myself if she talks_

The taller one that neither countries had met before heard her giggle and walk towards kitchen yelling at Gilbert. "Lien and I are going out for some fun, Gil."

"If you are then change out of your uniform Liz!" replied Gilbert as he appeared.

"I'm not stupid!" shouted Elizabeta as she turned on her heels and went upstairs.

Arthur heard a low mumble. "Sure you aren't."

Matthew exchanged confused and worried looks to each other before Feliciano appeared again in boxers and a tank top. "I'm a back!" exclaimed the Italian happily. Both countries just stared at the Italian with blank eyes and pressed further into the couch. "Gilbert! When will the food be done? I'm a starved!" Feliciano looked into the kitchen and saw Gilbert putting things on the large dining room table and turning back with a shocked look. He shook his head and point upstairs to the Italian. "But why? I like my a clothes like this off! It I could choose I would be naked!"

"No and go change," Gilbert put it bluntly. With a large, over dramatic sigh, Feliciano went upstairs and changed. He came back and was welcomed with heaps of Asian food. "Arthur and Matthew you a came on Asian night, so please enjoy your fill of Asian food." The countries stared at the large pile of food and boy did it look good. The stir fry and the pot stickers. Maybe the eggrolls or meat buns along with onigiri and fish. It was oriental down to the dishware. Tonight it was rice bowls with multiply dishes for different portions of the meal with chopsticks. "Sit and eat!" cheered Gilbert.

Arthur quickly took a seat near the Italian, because of Feliciano's happier disposition. Matthew got stuck being right next to Gilbert and he was nervous about being so close. The Brit looked at the food and decided to grab some of the stir fry, while Matthew went with the onigiri and eggroll. However, they both were stunned about the rather large amount Feliciano had on his plates. Two eggrolls, stir fry piling way high off the bowl, four onigiris, three meat buns, five pot stickers, and two large pieces of fish. Not to mention the eggroll sticking out of Feliciano's mouth. As Arthur chewed on a small spoonful of his stir fry he was nearly blown away at the loud tone Feliciano used. "FRATELLO!"

Both countries looked at a man with dark brown hair parted at the side with a hair curl going in the opposite direction of Feliciano's. The man also had green eyes and darker skin with a mad look about his face. "Damn it Fel, be quiet!" scolded Gilbert. The albino quickly turned his attention to Romano, "You dare yell and shout like your normal self I'll skin you for tomorrow's dinner." Romano gulped and looked at Gilbert and nodded his head before he turned on his heel to run upstairs. "Damn Italians," mumble Gilbert under his breath. Feliciano didn't hear Gilbert as he tore at his food. The dishware that once held a lot of food was now gone. It was gone within minutes.

_Why do all these bloody people look familiar to me? Do I know them?_

A loud noise made its way downstairs to the ears of all at the table. Gilbert looked up and set his chopsticks down. He went into the kitchen and gathered some of the Asian noodle soup into a wooden bowl. With a heavy sigh, the albino walked past the dining table and up the stairs to Alfred's room. Opening the door quick and shutting just as quick, Gilbert laid his eyes on Alfred, who was barely sitting up. Rushing over, Gilbert set down the bowl and places Alfred's pillows behind his back to support the American. He to bowl Alfred's lips and said, "Broth for you. Simple and easy for you to drink as well as on your stomach." Alfred opened his lips to let the broth in and Gilbert would pull back on the bowl so Alfred could swallow. This repeated until the bowl was empty. "Sleep bruder," ordered Gilbert as he lowered the American down onto his bed, "Because you will be going to school tomorrow, like it or not."

Alfred didn't hear the last part for he started to drift off to a better time and place. A time without blood. A time when he was not forgotten by loved ones. Gilbert smiles when he heard the soft intake and exhaling breaths from his 'little brother' and left his room quietly. He came down the stairs just as quietly and put the bowl in the sink before rejoining the others. "How is Alfredo?"

"Hmmm? Alfred?" replied Gilbert, who was trying his best to keep a calm face on.

"Don't play a dumb with me!" yelled Feliciano.

Gilbert tore his gaze from his food to the Italian. Arthur was appalled to see the Italian cower in fear. "You done?" Feliciano nodded his head quickly and returned to eating happily. Gilbert returned to his food and finished it quickly. He got up and started cleaning the kitchen. The Italian just watched the slow movements and was afraid to talk and to be honest, so were Arthur and Matthew.

It was silent for close to twenty minutes before Arthur broke the silence. "Excuse me idi- Feliciano. Where is the lavatory?" Arthur couldn't help the slight slip of the tongue, he felt that he had to call the Italian an idiot.

"Go up a stairs and take a right," explained the Italian, "Go two doors down and it will be on you're a left! Just a be careful not to go a right! That is Alfredo's room!"

"Thanks mate," said Arthur as he pulled away. The Brit quietly went up the stairs and followed Feliciano's instructions. Up the stairs, to the right, but Arthur stopped at a sudden realization. "Which left? His left or my left?" Arthur stared at the two doors. "Can't hurt to try them both I suppose," said Arthur to himself. He opened the door on his right and looked in.

It was dark, very dark in the room. The light from the hallway, which was dim, was the only light that was going into the room. It flooded into the room and Arthur looked in. Arthur saw a lump underneath a thick comforter. The lump was moving slightly, up and down. Arthur nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard, "A-Arthur . . . B-Big brother . . ." Arthur walked inside the room and closed the door to the point where only a sliver of light could come in. The Brit listened more to the sleeping Alfred. "Mmmm . . . Ma-Matthew and Kuma-Kumajiro . . . Let's play . . . Wi-with Arthur . . ."

_Kumajiro as in Matthew's polar bear cub?_

"Alfred?" asked the Brit carefully.

"Mmmm . . ." moaned Alfred as he woke up slightly, but was still more on the sleeping side. "What? School already?" Arthur looked at Alfred with curiosity, for he swore he had seen Alfred before. By before he meant hundreds of years ago.

_How do I know this chap?_

"No, you still have hours before school Alfred."

Alfred almost slumped back to sleep once he felt comfort at the fact school wasn't for another few hours. However, as the American almost fell back to sleep he realized that the accent of the voice was different to the others in the house. He shot right up and looked around his room. His eyes being different than Arthur's, Alfred could see everything in the darkness of his room. "Arthur?"

This scared Arthur a little, because he could barely even see the outline of the figure on the bed. He only knew it was Alfred's room from the Italian's instructions. "Y-yes,"

"What are you doing in my room, let alone my house?" asked Alfred.

Arthur scratched his head and sheepishly replied, "O, well you see Feliciano invited Matthew and me for dinner here. I also wanted to return your cellular device to you, Alfred."

"My cell . . . Feliciano that makes sense," mumbled Alfred to himself. The mumbling came to an end when the urge struck at the sweet scent of Arthur's blood. Before Alfred good do anything he saw the Brit move about his room and switch on the lap on his desk.

"You alright chap?" asked Arthur.

Holding his throat and squeezing his eyes tightly shut, Alfred wheezed, "G-get out! NOW!"

"Why? You're hurting lad. I can at least help you," said Arthur as he stepped closer to Alfred. He soon felt the urge to sit on the bed, which he did as he looked at the American. "Just tell me. I'll help you and be here to."

The scent was now driving Alfred mad. It smelled so sweet, so scrumptious even though it had yet to touch Alfred's tongue. "P-Please go . . . For yo-your own good . . . Go!" Alfred was squeezing his throat so hard, he was having troubles breathing, which was a good thing. However, his entire body urged him to feed from Arthur, the man who had raised him and forgotten him when he had left. "Ple-please!"

Arthur took one of his hands and placed it on Alfred's head and rubbed in. The movement made him envision a small child sick in bed. The room lit by an old fashioned candle and oil laps. The boy looked like a younger version of Alfred, despite how sick he was. "I . . . I refuse to leave you," spoke Arthur before he realized what he was saying. The touch was the last straw, for it pushed Alfred over the edge. He couldn't prevent himself from lunging out and wrapping his arms around Arthur. Nor could refuse nuzzling the porcelain skin. "Al-Alfred! WH-WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" screamed Arthur. The sounds Arthur made were silenced as Alfred's canines sank deeply into his prey's neck, deep in the jugular. "AH!"

"What was that?" asked Gilbert when he heard the scream.

"Ve?"

Gilbert scanned the room, "Where is eye- Arthur?"

"He . . . Uh . . . Went to use the b-bathroom up-upstairs," explained Matthew. Gilbert's red eyes widened as he took off up the stairs. He hoped he wasn't too late.

The blood rushed into Alfred's waiting mouth as he drank deeper and deeper. It was the finest Alfred had ever tasted, like a rare vintage wine. The flavor rolled off Alfred's tongue in a swivel of taste. He couldn't explain it. Nothing compared to it before, not even from the vixens chosen by Feliciano. There was a sweetness laced in the blood. Something Alfred hadn't had the pleasure in years of taking. "ALFRED!" screamed Gilbert, "GET OFF OF HIM!" The albino was being careful on how to pull Alfred off of Arthur, without hurting the Brit too badly than he already was. Carefully, Prussia pulled off Alfred, who had calmed down a little the urge and was now tired. Arthur was pale, as in paler than his normal self, and was out cold.

Gilbert swore under his breath and pushed Alfred back into bed. He then gathered Arthur in his arms, but was caught red-handed by Matthew and Feliciano. "What happ-happened to Arthur?" asked Matthew.

"He got hit by Alfred, who was sleeping. Happens a lot too," lied Gilbert.

The albino looked at Matthew and realized his eyes weren't really on Arthur, they were on Alfred. Matthew took another step closer and took more each time. He wanted to see Alfred better. Something was drawing him closer and closer to the American. It didn't help that Alfred was a sleep talks, well more like sleep mumbles about his past. "Mattie . . . Pl-Play . . . In the mea-meadow?"

"Me Mattie?" asked Matthew, looking at his almost splitting image.

As the Canadian drew closer to the, bed he listened. "Mmmm . . . We can . . . Br-bring Kuma . . . Kumajiro!" mumbled Alfred.

Matthew's eyes grew large at the last sentence, very large. This man that looked like him was his twin brother Alfred Foster and the representative of the United States of America.

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review?


	5. Lies

Newest Chapter! Sorry for the long delay... School and sports... Now that I am sick I can write ;) Enjoy!

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The thought of his long lost twin brother alive was mind blowing. Everything around the Canadian didn't matter right now. His brother was alive . . . Here and in front of him. "Al?" asked Canada as he pushed by Gilbert. "Alfred? It's me, Mattie."

_Yes . . . Alfred sounds right. Alfred . . . ALFRED FOSTER! That is my brother! Alfred Foster of the United States._

"Get away from Alfred," replied Gilbert, who had stood his ground, "It is best that you stay back. Alfred is not in good shape and needs you and Eyebrows to leave him be."

Matthew looked at Prussia with an odd look. "Why would I just leave my twin? Especially when he is hurting?" Canada pressed passes Gilbert quickly, which was rather easy seeing that the albino was holding the unconscious Arthur in his arms. The older twin sat on the bed and held onto Alfred's hand tightly. "Alfred Foster, you wake up now!" Alfred twitched lightly and moaned a long, low moan that resonated throughout his room. "Al, please it's me, Mattie. Wake up brother . . ."

Soft sky blue eyes opened a crack, "M-Mattie?" America rolled over onto his side and pulled his hand free, "Don't have a brother. Sorry . . . Dude . . ."

This sent a pang of hurt into Canada's heart. He was hurt that his dear little, and once sweet, little brother would lie to him in his face. "Don't lie Alfred Foster. I know who you are." Alfred sat up quickly and eyed Matthew in the eyes. Sky blue staring deeply into light blue/purple.

"You do huh? Then how come my name is Alfred Jones?" Alfred strategically left out his middle initial, which was Foster. "Care to tell me that dude?" He watched as his older brother thought and thought about the possible reasons for the name change.

_His first is still Alfred and that cannot be coincidence. But wasn't there more to his name? Alfred E. Jones? No. Alfred Y. Jones? No. What was it?! Alfred P. Jones? Not right. Alfred . . . Alfred . . . Alfred F. Jones! That's it!_

"Your first name is Alfred –" started Matthew.

"So it is, but it could be just a –"

Matthew eyes twinkled and he pointed at Alfred. "You just said 'could be' so that means you are my brother! Alfred Foster!"

"I am not your brother. Get it dude? Good. Now get the hell out of my house!" ordered Alfred, who was hurt for having to resort to this. He watched as Matthew looked lost and hurt.

"Dammit Alfred, don't push your own brother away! I love you!" stated Matthew. As the words registered into Alfred's mind, he realized he had hurt his brother more. However, he did know that by pushing Matthew away it would be for the best.

Putting a hand on Matthew's shoulder, Alfred lied, "I'm Alfred F. Jones. I was renamed 'Alfred' by Gilbert when he adopted me. My mother had already signed the paperwork for me to go to Gilbert when I was still in her womb. Jones was my mother's surname and Gilbert thought I should keep it for myself."

"But you are my brother! Don't lie to me! Please! I just . . . I know you my brother Alfred Foster!" cried Matthew.

_I was your brother . . . I was Alfred Foster . . . That was then Mattie . . . I've changed, you changed . . . Everything has changed._

"I'm sorry, but you should go. I'll watch over Arthur tonight and bring him to school tomorrow." Matthew shook his. "So you want to take Arthur with you?" asked Alfred. He earned himself another shake of the head. "Then what Matthew?"

"What does the 'F' stand for in your name? I refuse to leave without you telling me. Does it stand for Foster?" whispered Matthew.

_Yes, it does Mattie. I knew you were smart, ever since we were little._

Alfred shook his head. "The 'F' stands for Freedom. I'm sorry, but I am not this Alfred Foster you keep mistaking me for."

"Then what about Mr. Kumajiro? You said something about Mr. Kumajiro and playing with Mattie."

"I sleep talk and say weird things. Even Gil will vouch for me," replied Alfred. Gilbert, still holding onto Arthur, nodded his head. "I'm just a weird sleep talker," joked and lied Alfred. Matthew hugged Alfred tight and cried lightly.

"I'm here for you! Brother please! I know that you are Alfred Foster! The representative of the United States of America and my younger twin brother!"

_I was those things Mattie . . . Was. _

Alfred pulled out of the embrace, even though he cherished it deeply. "You should go home now." Matthew nodded his head and left quietly. He didn't seek help or say a word. He just left, leaving Arthur behind. After Matthew had left, Alfred looked at Gilbert and jumped out of his bed. "Put Britain on my bed and I'll watch him tonight."

"Be careful. You took a lot from him," warned Gilbert as he laid the unconscious Brit on Alfred's bed. Alfred nodded his head in agreement as he watched his former caretaker breathing hard. "Well, the awesome me will go now." And with that, Gilbert left quietly, shutting the door behind him.

Alfred ran a hand through the pale locks. "I'm sorry Britain. I didn't mean to do this," spoke Alfred quietly, "I warned you to go and you didn't. Stupid Brit. But I have and always will misses you with all my heart." The vampire watched as Britain slept for a bit longer and laughed quietly whenever Arthur would mumble. The mumbles would have been difficult to hear as a human, but with sensitive ears Alfred could hear it all. He enjoyed the way that Arthur would remember things in his sleep and voice them.

However, America became increasingly embarrassed and without thinking he hit Britain in his sleep for mumbling a skeleton he wanted to remain buried. "Mmmm . . . America . . . Did you . . . Mmmm . . . Wet the bed again?" That was one of the most embarrassing things from Alfred's past and he didn't stop himself as he hit Britain in the face. Immediately, emerald eyes opened wide. "What the bloody hell?! OW?!" yelled Britain as he shot up and grabbed his neck. He stopped after realizing that touching only made it worse.

"Dude, don't talk about people wetting their beds in their sleep . . . It's gross," stated Alfred as he hid his blush. Arthur noticed the blush and remembered what happened before he went off to his lala land with uni, flying mint bunny, Captain Hook, Tinker Bell, and his other friends.

"Why did you bite me?" asked Britain with all seriousness.

Alfred tensed, for the question struck home. "Dude, it was a dream. You should sleep some more. You see, you passed out and you hit my project and got that nasty would on your neck," lied America.

"Don't lie to me poppet, for I know you are lying to me. I clearly remember coming in and making sure you were alright. Then you jumped as me and bit me on my neck."

"Alright then. You caught me," started Alfred as faked anger and sadism in his face, "I'm a vampire. I drink blood to live for eternity. Been around since the 1600s, too. Might I add your blood was one of the finest qualities I've tasted in a long time." Alfred watched as the horror spread across Britain's face, then a faint blush across his cheeks occurred. "A virgin . . . No heavy use of drugs and alcohol . . . Tasty. Now. You keep a closed lip over this or I'll kill you next time. Got that?" For extra emphasis, Alfred let his fangs slide out as he smiled a cruel smile.

_A vampire? Did I hear that right? And the 1600s? Maybe . . . Wait. Virgin?!_

Flushing with anger, Britain got up and hit Alfred square in the face. "Virgin? I've had sex before you git!" The older country watched as the younger rubbed the spot he had just hit. "The 1600s hundreds you say? Tell me vampire, who you really are?"

"I am a vampire that is four hundred years old. That is who I am."

"Don't be a smart arse. I know who you are," replied Britain with an annoyed look.

Alfred raised his dusty blonde brow, "Oh? Care to enlighten me?" The American noticed that the Brit was fumbling with his hands, something he didn't approve of.

"When you bit me, git, I felt something. I even saw some things. Things that weren't from this time period," replied Britain. Alfred sat on the bed and looked Arthur with puzzling eyes. This has never happened to Alfred before, where one of his victims remembered him. Because Alfred always killed his victims. "I saw you fighting in so many wars. The main one that stuck was the Revolutionary War and your feelings were so strong during the bite. There was sadness that reigned supreme and hints of depression and happiness and many more. So," Arthur looked hard at Alfred, "Who the bloody hell are you?"

Alfred's eyes widened at the words Britain said. His feeling about his former caretaker were still strong. He loved his brother. He loved Arthur with all of his heart and being. Lying to him was like a great sin to Alfred, he could never lie to Arthur. "Britain . . ."

"ALFRED!" yelled Britain and he hugged America. "Alfred is it really you?" Alfred nodded his head lightly against Britain's shoulder. "Alfred . . . I thought I lost you my dear boy . . . O Alfred!" America rubbed Britain's back gently and felt pangs of guilt everywhere. Quickly pulling from their embrace, Arthur looked Alfred all over. "My God have you grown. You're so big, so strong," Arthur smiled, but he quickly started remembering more, "And you lied to me. Stated you were dead for four hundred years and the Revolutionary War, by God it was you that day wasn't it?"

Looking up at Britain, Alfred replied, "It was me that day all those years ago. I . . . I didn't mean to lie to you and leave you. It was for the best."

_It was to protect you and Mattie._

"The best? For what lad?"

"Because then I didn't have control over my urges. Even now I have slight control. It was to protect you from me . . ." responded America. Arthur couldn't help himself, he hugged his, now grown, former colony tightly. "Please don't . . . I mean . . . I attacked you earlier . . . You should leave and not tell anyone about me okay?"

"I will not. The representative of the United States of America is alive and well and must represent his control during world meetings. You are Alfred Foster, my former colony that became the United States after the Revolutionary War. You fought to earn yourself a place at the world meetings, so you shall go. Got that?" informed Britain.

Alfred looked at Britain and shook his head. "I cannot and I will not. I will get Romano to help me assure that," whispered Alfred in self-hate. He loved Arthur, but he had to keep his secret of being alive and a vampire hidden from Arthur for the safety of everyone else and future family members. "ROMANO! GET IN HERE NOW!" yelled Alfred, making Arthur jump in response.

"Assure what Alfred? I love you, so don't push me away!" cried Arthur.

Tears started to lie Alfred's eyes as he heard footsteps approaching his door. "I know . . . I know . . . But there is more than just you and I . . . This if for other's safety. I love you, too. Always have and will," sniffed Alfred.

The door burst open and both countries nearly jumped. At the door, both swore to see red glowing eyes of hatred. "What Twerp? What could you possible need at this hour at night, damn Americano?!" glared Romano, who was obviously awoken from his beauty sleep.

"I need a mind swipe on Arthur. Forget everything about what he saw tonight and what I did. You know I can't do it and that you are the –"

"The only one in the house that can do it, yeah-yeah," interrupted Romano. He stormed in and looked at Alfred. "You sure Twerp?"

Looking at Romano, Alfred nodded his head. "I'm sure, just let me do something first . . ." Alfred drifted off and turned to face Britain, who was still wondering who the hell Romano was, why he was scary, and why he seemed so damn familiar. "Arthur," Green eyes turned to face Alfred, "I love you so much and I'll be there watching you to help you when I'm around." Alfred ended his statement and kisses Arthur's lips gently, but firmly. The kiss was electrifying to both men. Alfred kept pushing more passion into the kiss, while Arthur was slightly freaked and froze at what was happening to him. Breaking the kiss, Alfred turned to Romano, "Now, you can swipe his memory of this evening."

Romano moved in and placed his hands on the sides of Britain's head and focused. A small amount of light was release, illuminating the room brightly. The closer you got the Arthur, the stronger the light was. Then it ended just like that. Arthur slumped onto Alfred's lamp, unconscious. "There, he doesn't remember anything about tonight," Romano spat out as he turned on heels to go back to bed. "Damn Americano . . . But we love you regardless."

Smiling at Romano's statement, Alfred looked down and the smile vanished. He combed his fingers through Britain's hair and sighed. "I should get you home." Alfred changed from his school uniform to dark, faded jeans and a black hoody with a fifty on the back. He left his glasses on his desk and placed Britain on his back. "You barely weigh a thing man." Smiling at the closeness, Alfred opened his window and jumped buildings to reach Arthur's place. The cool breeze was comforting to Alfred as he jumped and jumped. After about ten minutes of jumping, Alfred saw his target area. It was about five to six miles away from the town. "Hang on . . . If you can," whispered Alfred. He took a deep breath and placed all his strength in the last jump off the old candy store. Everything around them seemed to stop moving. The only sign of movement was the air rushing past Alfred's body as it sliced through it, seeing Arthur's body was shielded by Alfred's. Alfred landed on the roof of Arthur's mansion with a soft **thud**.

Looking around, Alfred found an open window and carefully flung himself at the right angle to get in. He landed like a cat and looked around the room. He heart a soft beating heart and felt the warmth of someone sleeping deeply on the bed. He look and saw that it was Mattie. Biting his lip, Alfred left Matthew's room quietly and went down the stairs. He made it to the living room, or least that was what it was to Alfred's guess. Gently, Alfred placed Arthur on the couch. After turning around he arranged Arthur in a laying position and tucked a blanket around him. Smiling at his work, Alfred opened a window and jumped out of it. As he descended to the earth, he looked around. The garden that always smelled of love and care. Blooming flower of all types and colors. They were the only things living that brought life to the old, nearly Gothic styled mansion. Alfred landed quietly again and looked around. He was surrounded by white roses. Sniffing in the wondrous aroma, Alfred picked one and walked home.

_Goodnight my Arthur . . . My cherished one . . . _

Arthur woke up early, due to the coldness of the room and the morning sun hitting him square in the face. "The bloody hell?! Who left the window open? I mean winter is coming and a frost . . . A FROST!" The Brit jumped out of his sleeping position and looked out of his window to peer at his garden. "No frost. Okay, that was luck. Good luck." Sighing, Arthur turned and walked into his kitchen.

It was a sterile kitchen with black and white tiles. The walls painted a dark green, a green that almost match his very own eyes. Humming to himself, Britain gathered water into a kettle and placed it on a lit burner. As the water came to slow boil, he searched through his cabinet, explicably for tea only. He finally chose Earl Grey tea. A classical favorite that worked wonderfully with jams and a scones. When he heard the familiar whistling, Arthur poured the boiling water into a blue and white tea pot and added two tea bags to seep. "What is today? Is it Tuesday or Thursday? I swear it has to be one of the 'T's." Arthur looked on the calendar and realized it was Wednesday and July.

_Wow . . . I'm getting old if I thought winter and snow and frosts were supposed to come if it is July, but so cold . . . _

"Ah . . . O well . . . It is a lovely morning for tea and scones, it is indeed," he smiled to himself. Pulling out a tea cup and a saucer, Arthur poured himself some tea. Then he added one spoonful of sugar and some milk for color. Britain placed his tea on the table and gather some scone and jams before sitting. They were black as night and seemed to wreak the words, "Don't eat me! I am death! I Kill." Never minding the apparent death he made, Arthur spread the thick, rich, red strawberry jam onto the 'Black Death' in his hand. He bit into it happily and drank some of his tea.

In the middle of his bite, Matthew ran into the kitchen. He was wearing the Gauken Academy uniform and gathering things to make pancakes. "Britain, if you don't hurry and get ready we'll be late for school!" informed the Canadian.

"School? Oh my! I forgot!" Arthur forgot his scones and tea as he run up the stairs. However, he ran into something hard and sturdy.

"Ouch! Britain, watch where you step! Or else you'll ruin zis beautiful face!"

"Shut it Frog. I'll be late if you keep me waiting," Arthur replied as he pushed France aside. He shuffled to his room and put on his pressed slacks. Quickly buttoning his, also, pressed oxford and tucking it into his pant. "Damn! School uniforms used to be so simply . . ." whined Arthur as he tied his black tie before sliding on his pale yellow, V-neck sweater. Slipping on his purple blazer, Arthur quickly bent down and tied on his brown leather shoes. Looking in the mirror, he ran his fingers through his hair to smooth it. "Good as ever old boy," smiled Arthur.

He ran down the stairs as Matthew finished his pancakes and fed the leftovers to Mr. Kumajiro. "Be good Mr. Kumajaro. I'll be back in a bit."

"Who are you?" asked the polar cub.

"I'm Canada, your owner."

Straightening his blazer, Arthur said, "You ready Canada? To go further investigations about this 'Alfred'?"

"Oh . . . Sure . . . I think that Alfred. F. Jones is my brother Britain," informed Matthew.

"What makes you say zat, ma cher?" asked France.

Canada looked at France and Britain with look that told them that he wasn't joking around or anything. "Last night at his house, I ran into his room with Feliciano and Britain was unconscious in Gilbert's arms. Alfred was sleeping on his bed lightly and was sleeping talking. He said "Mattie play in the meadow" and "We can bring Kumajiro". If that isn't proof then I don't know what it is then."

"He looks like you, ma cher, and he knew you're bears name. Zat is some good evidence, seeing zat you don't remember your bears name yourself. What do you zink Britain?" asked France as he turned to see Britain. "Britain?"

Arthur was deep in thought, because he didn't remember anything after school. "I . . . I'm sorry, I don't remember anything after school."

"Gilbert said that Alfred hit you in his sleep, so maybe that's why," thought Matthew about the night before.

"Zen what is zat?" asked Francis as he pointed to the black and blue on Britain's neck. "It is quite large and is hidden by your collar mon ami, so could you please unbutton it?"

Feeling like he was just asked to strip naked in front of France, Britain jumped at him, "HELL NO YOU DAMN PERVERTED FROG!" Matthew placed a hand on Britain's shoulder and Arthur looked into deep sad blue eyes.

"Please Britain." Arthur's eyes opened wide as a memory flashed into his mind.

* * *

"_Please Britain . . . Can you carry me?" asked a young Alfred. _

_Britain looked down and smiled, "You never asked me to do this in a while little man, you sure?" He watched as Alfred nodded his little head and as he was about to pick up the child, he clutched his chest and coughed violently. "Alfred?!" yelled Britain as he got on his knees and rubbed the boys back. The rubbing barely helped as Alfred continued to cough more and more. Soon, Alfred fell down on his butt from the exhaustion that the coughing did to him. "Alfred love, are you alright?" _

"_Ahhhh . . . I a –" attempted Alfred until another coughing fit took him. The coughing made Alfred's tiny body shake and it sounded like there was a fluid in his chest. _

"_Al!" yelled Britain. This time he picked up Alfred into his arms, on arm under Alfred's put for support and the other around the boy's back to keep him upright. "You feel feverish lad," said Britain as he lifted his porcelain hand to Alfred's clammy and barely pale forehead, "You do." Switching hands carefully and shifting his weight, Britain managed to pull off his coat and put it around Alfred, which he pressed his arms more to keep the coat tight around the little body. "We're going home now. Will you be alright little man?"_

"_Y-yeah," panted Alfred. He closed his eyes and rested against Britain's pounding chest. _

_Britain ran home, well not literally run because he knew that if he did he would have fallen. But he made it to his and America's home quickly. "Winston, bring a pitcher of water up and makes some tea. Also, please prepare some soup tonight for Alfred. He is feeling under the weather," ordered Arthur as he walked upstairs to Alfred's room._

"_Yes sir," responded Winston, which was what all butlers said to their master. However, Winston would do anything for his masters. They were his life and the reasons to why he was alive. He left for the kitchen and boiled water for the soup and tea. Then he pumped water into a pitcher and walked upstairs._

_Placing Alfred gently in his huge bed, Arthur quickly changed his clothes to a nighty. Smiling, he tucked Alfred in tightly. "Feeling better?" Alfred nodded weakly. "All will be fine luv. All will be fine," said Britain, who was worried. He placed his hand on Alfred's head again and noticed the fever had risen. Winston walked in with the pitcher and some hand towels. "Thank you, Winston."_

"_My pleasure sir," said Winston as he left._

_Arthur poured some of the cool water into a basin and then dipped one of the small towels in it. Wringing it out tightly, he then placed it on Alfred's feverish forehead. Arthur rubbed Alfred's cheek with his thumb and got up to go to the storage closet in the hallway. Looking around the big closet, Britain found what he was looking for and pulled out a large and heavy blanket, used during the winter. He brought the object to Alfred's room and placed it on his sick charge. "Better poppet?"_

"_Th-thanks Britain . . ." panted Alfred, weakly. He closed his eyes and drifted off silently. _

"_Oh Alfred . . . My little Alfred," breathed Britain, "Alfred Foster, you stay strong and fight."_

* * *

"Britain?" poked France.

"Britain?" asked Canada.

Snapping out of the memory, "What?"

"You just said "Alfred Foster, you stay strong and fight". Care to explain?"

"And unbutton you collar to reveal what zose bruises lead to?" added France

Glaring at France, Arthur slowly untied his tie and unbuttoned his shirt just as slowly. "I just had a memory about my charge of the United States of America," The other two countries immediately tuned into what Britain was saying, "I remembered how he got sick during an outing before you, Frog, dropped off Canada for a visit. It started with violently coughing episodes and a fever settling in. It took about two weeks for the virus to run its course and the ending result was the Al died."

France looked at the revealing bite marks on the, now, exposed pale neck. "Jesus Christ Britain! What ze hell ravished you zroat?"

"I don't know Frog."

Matthew was sitting and thinking about what Britain had just said. "Alfred. Alfred Foster?"

"Yes, I named the future representative of the United States of America, Alfred Foster. Why do you ask?" asked Britain as he ignored France.

"It's just that Alfred's name is Alfred F. Jones. So, couldn't the "f" stand for Foster?" replied Matthew

"No one listens to me . . ." whimpered France as he was ignored.

Britain stood still and thought about what Mathew had just said. "It is quite possible. If we could break into and see his file, then maybe we'll find out for sure and end this." Arthur re-buttoned his shirt and retied his tie, tucking the black material under his sweater. "Time for school then," smiled Arthur.

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Review?


	6. The Truth

Actually able to write, now that I am sick and can't do much. So here another chapter, now I have to work on my other stories :) Hope you like!

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Alfred was sitting at his desk and thought about what to do. He looked over at his clock and decided to get ready. All of his movements were slow. They were slow because he was thinking about what he had done hours ago to ensure his new families safety. After he tied his tie and tucked it under his vest, for he cut off the sleeves, he slide on his sports jacket. Alfred walked across the hall and into the bathroom. Pulling his tooth brush to hover underneath his tube of toothpaste, he squeezed the tube so that a nice portion of the goopy cleaning paste coated his brush. He brushed his teeth in a circular motion and spat out the leftover in his mouth after five minutes of brushing and he rinsed out his cavern of a mouth with water. Grabbing his brush, he brushed out his locks and tied to get the cowlick to stay down for once, but not today, for it quickly went back up. With a sigh of defeat, he packed his bag up. Grabbed his headphones and iPod, but he couldn't find his cellphone. "Great," mused Alfred.

He walked down the stairs and slide on his shoes and left the house. The streets were quiet, for it was relatively early in the morning for lots of people like usually mornings. Alfred didn't care, he felt sick to his stomach for pushing his actually family away. He made his way to school and took care of his classes that he had missed. Submitted homework and got new assignments from his classes. Alfred went to his homeroom and sat to do his homework. He had a half an hour to kill. Enough time to breeze though his forgotten Swedish homework first. Then he worked on his English, Modern America, Physics, and Public Speaking homework. All of his classes were college level course, offered by a various colleges surrounding the school. As time went on, more and more people came in the classroom. "Alfred, you left early," noted Elizabeta, who was sitting with her group of friends.

"I know. I missed most of my classes and wanted to get the work and do it," responded Alfred as he worked on a speech for Public Speaking.

"Over-achiever!" sang Elizabeta.

Without looking up from his work, Alfred continued to write and talk. "At least I'm trying to be successful and not working on flunking."

"Ohhhhh~" taunted the Hungarian, "Well, I can keep on coming back to school and work on that and you know it."

Sighing heavily at the response, "And most don't. You should at least try." Alfred wrote faster as the words sang to him. His speech was about Japanese customs and the effects of modernization. The speech had to be over ten minutes and the presenter needed to present items to show the class. It wasn't due for another two day, but Alfred liked to get things down and out of the way.

"Sorry, but I'm not a try hard like you."

"Well then I am sorry for you, Liz," said Alfred as he looked at her. He had just finished his speech and put it away in his bag. "You'll learn that one day you should've paid more attention."

"Whatever, Al," huffed Elizabeta, "So, what about Lucas?"

_Girls! So fucking annoying . . . _

Matthew and Arthur walked in. They both spotted Alfred and walked over to him. "Feeling better lad?" asked Britain

"Yeah, I guess. Tired and wish I wasn't here . . . Girl issues, ya know?" smiled Alfred.

"No, I don't date. Seems you do thought," stated Britain, "Oh, Alfred. I have your cell. You dropped in calculus yesterday." Arthur handed the phone over and Alfred took it immediately.

"Thanks. I was talking about my sister. I don't date either. Waste of time," stated Alfred.

Densen walked in and smiled. "You all know the drill," he said as he ran down his list of names. After ten minutes he walked out with the other kids. However, instead of a computer screen with a stern looking Nordic man on it. A man with long golden locks and deep blue eyes walked in. He had some stumble on his chin and a very fashioned sense of dressing. A white suite and red oxford with a white tie. Breathing under his breath, Alfred said, "Great . . . France . . ."

Eyes widening, Matthew asked, "What did you say?"

Realizing what had slipped, Alfred lied easily. "I said great . . . A Frenchie. He has that atmosphere around him."

"Oh . . ." breathed Canada.

"Good morning class. I am Mr. Bonnefoy and I'll be your teacher today. I'll be doing roll call now. Alfred F. Jones?"

"Ici, Monsieur Bonneboy," spoke Alfred in French.

"Oui, je le vois maintenant. (Yes, I see that now.)" France smiled warmly at the Alfred before reading on his list, this of course sent a shiver down Alfred's spine. "Arthur Kirkland? Are you here?"

"Here Fr– Mr. Bonnefoy," correct Arthur quickly.

France smiled at Arthur, who immediately wanted to kill him. France turned to see his own former colony "Good morning and Matthew Williams?"

"Oui, Je suis ici, (Yes, I am here)" smiled Matthew.

"We are all here. Now, your normal teacher is out sick and zere is no replacement. Zerefor, treat zis period like a study hall."

Smiling to himself, Arthur walked up to France and asked, "Mr. Bonnefoy, may I use the lavatory?" The Brit received a nod from France's head. Smiling, he walked out of the room and went directly to the teachers' lounge. Arthur wrapped his blazer 'round his head. Looking around and, only after making sure, Britain went in. He breathed a sigh of relief that he was right about there being no one there. The Brit looked around and saw no cameras, but just to be sure, he left his blaze on his head. Walking towards the other door within the room, he heard nothing. Reaching his destination, Arthur walked in and found the filing cabinets. Looking at each drawer he found the section he needed and opened it. Quickly, Britain found his target file and tucked it under his sweater. Smiling at his handy, he left just as quietly, but stopped.

Someone was coming. He looked around the room and went back in the door with the filing cabinet. There, the Brit heard the door open and close. Next, Arthur hear the sound of leather squishing out air as someone sat in it. Arthur looked around the small room and saw a vent in the ceiling. With a light sigh, he lifted himself up into the vent and scooted around. Crawling carefully and quietly the entire time, Arthur began to sweat lightly and was growing desperate to get out. It had been fifteen minutes since he had left and about ten of those minutes had been in the air duct. "Damn." Arthur crawled more to his left at the sight of more light. He looked down and it was the lavatory. The Brit was so thrilled that he lifted the vent up and peeked down. Clear. He lowered himself down and comes down with a soft thud. Wiping the dust off of him, he slid his blazer back on and looked at his reflection. Arthur wiped the dust and sweat off himself and realized things in the mirror, then turned to look around the bathroom.

_Why is it pink in here? O DEAR LORD!_

The Brit moved quickly to the door and listened. Wrapping his head again with his blazer, Arthur left and went down the halls and found a blind spot in the cameras right by the door to the room he was supposed to be in. Unwrapping his head, Britain put his blazer on again and walked. "Dude, you really had to go if you took over twenty minutes," commented Alfred, "Monsieur Bonnefoy, puis-je utiliser la salle de bain? (Mr. Bonnefoy, may I use the bathroom?)"

"Oui, Monsieur Jones," smiled France. Alfred nodded his head in appreciation and walked to the bathroom. "What did you find out?" whispered France quietly.

"Haven't looked yet," replied Arthur as he pulled the file out from under his sweater. He put it on the desk and opened it. There was a picture of Alfred in the corner and his entire biography was there:

**Name: Alfred Foster Jones.**

**Parents: Gilbert Beilschmidt (adoptive father)**

**Gender: Male**

**D.O.B: 07/04/94 **

**P****.O.B: Jamestown, Virginia**

**Race: White**

** Ethnicity: American**

**Nationality: American, German, British, Japanese, Italian, Hungarian, Belarusian, French, and Netherlands/Holland,**

**H. Color: Blonde**

** E. Color: Blue**

**Height: 5'9.6" or 177cm **

**Weight: 160 lb. or 73 kg.**

**I.Q: 236 **

**Blood type: A positive**

"Well look at that. His middles name is Foster, so he has to be my brother," exclaimed Matthew. He looked at France and Britain, who were still looking at the top description. "What's wrong?"

"'Is I.Q. is extraordinary high, for a 'uman. I mean a 236? It's impossible," stated France as he looked at the written information and processed it with what he knew. Then he looked at the parents spot. "Arthur, are you looking at ze name of his guardian, too?"

"I am. Isn't Germany's surname Beilschmidt?" asked Britain.

Thinking over the name carefully, France's eyes opened wide. "Oui! It is. So do you zink zere is a relationship between Germany and zis Gilbert person?"

Shaking his head, "Maybe, but it is hard to know without Germany's background story. But Look at all the nationalities. I've never seen so many belonging to one person." France looked them over and Matthew was looking more at the file and red the information below:

**SAT score: 2300 ACT score: 36**

**Sports: Soccer, Basketball, and Baseball**

**Other Activities/clubs: Archery Club, Art Club, Astronomy/Space Club, Calligraphy Club, Chinese Club, Debate Club, Environmental Club, Fencing Club, Find a Cure Club, French Club, History Club, Manga/Anime Club, Marine Biology Club, Science Club, Spanish Club, U.N. Club, Video Gamer's Club, and World Affairs Club, ****Math Team, National Honors Society, Debate Team, and Interact, ****Karate, Reading, Quick Draw, Drawing, Writing, and sports.**

**Awards: High Honor with Merit, Most Valuable Player Award (for all sports for 3 years straight), Coaches Award, Defensive Player of the Year (basketball), and Academic Scholar's Award.**

"Look at all of his scores. They are genius level," notified Canada. The other two countries looked and they were surprised. "He's not stupid that's for sure."

A voice sliced through the air that was like lightning. "No, I'm not stupid." Alfred walked in and picked up his file. "Care to explain this?" he asked as he waved to his file.

All three counties looked at each other. "We wanted to know who you really were," spoke Matthew lightly. Alfred raised his eyebrow, "Because you and I look alike. Not to mention your name and last night."

"I would think after last night you would get I'm not your brother," stated Alfred, "I have no siblings, I move around a lot, and I don't like people creeping over me and my family. Now, enlighten me. Why are you going through documents that are illegal for you to read?

"I told you!" yelled Matthew, "You are my younger twin brother, Alfred Foster and don't even say you aren't! Your name, according to that document, is Alfred Foster Jones." Alfred let out a long sigh and ran a hand through his dusty hair. "Alfred, please! Just say you'll come with us and talk your spot as a representative for your country.

"I am not your –"

This time, it was France who spoke up. "You cannot 'ide your appearance. You and Matthew look too much alike to say it is just coincidence."

"You know, there are supposed to be about four people out in the world that have close physical appearances. A.K.A. a person should have four twins out there," replied Alfred with an accurate fact.

"Now look here boyo! You don't need to be a smart arse about this! We're only here because we care for you, Alfred Foster!" cried Britain. Tears rolled down Arthur's face as he watch Alfred deny all links to him.

Gritting his teeth, Alfred spoke, "I am not Alfred Foster. I am Alfred F. Jones. Born in Jamestown, Virginia in 1994 and was adopted by a German and his wife, who died when I was two. I know who I am, you people don't. Don't point, think, and say who I am. I'm telling you who I am and I am not the person you say I am."

That was like a bucket of ice cold water to Canada and Britain and a little to France, but mostly Matthew and Arthur. "I see. So when you were sleep talking about me and my polar bear you were just making up," tested Matthew.

"You were hearing things dude. Sorry, but that is the truth. I'll return this," motioning to his profile, "Back where it belongs. Good day." Alfred turned on his heel and started walking out of the room.

"Alfred Foster! Look at me!" yelled Britain. Sighing, Alfred turned to face Britain and looked at him with endless blue rings. "Don't lie to me. Me most of all," said Arthur as he walked up to Alfred. "I am someone who only wants to help you and love you." Arthur reached up and placed a gentle kiss on Alfred's cheek.

Feeling guilty, Alfred pushed Arthur away. "Sorry bro'ski, I don't fly that way." With luck, the bell rang and Alfred picked up his bag and left for calculus. Heartbroken, Britain and Canada followed Alfred to calculus and handed in their complete, but mostly wrong homework. Alfred handed his in and sat there silently. When the bell ran he moved onto English and did the same. He barely noticed the two other countries following him. The period went by quick and Alfred moved onto to history. Matthew and Arthur followed Alfred to the classroom and sat down. "Jones, you're up to present," informed Mr. Conroy.

"Shit," mumbled Alfred.

"What was that Jones?"

Looking up with a smile, "Nothing Mr. Conroy."

The teacher nodded is graying head in approval, "Good."

Alfred went to the back of the room and brought forth his things. He set the box and carrying case on the presenting desk in front of the class of twenty-three. Putting on a smile and looking at everyone. "'Sup guys and gals? As you know I am Alfred F. Jones and I chose the Revolutionary War for my project. As most of you know the war was caused by the harsh treatment of Great Britain, a superpower at the time and the oppressor of the colonists. The Parliament passed many acts, later known as the Intolerable Acts. Most of these Acts ended with protests and refusals from certain colonies at the time. For example, the Quartering Act of 1765 compelled colonies to house army troops and the colony, of present day New York, refused to comply. The last act, the Coercive Acts of 1774, led to the First Continental Congress meeting in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Everybody good?" asked Alfred to make sure everyone was good. This was really to make sure that he didn't go too in-depth, like he wanted and could. No sound. Britain didn't answer, because he was lost in thought about the old war and the heartache it gave him. "Alright then. The first battle was at Lexington and Concord on April 14 1775. From this beginning, we get Paul Revere warning that the "British were coming by land", because if two lamps were lit it was by land, if one than by sea. After that battles were all over the colonies, mostly the north. During the Second Continental Congress coercive, which gave birth to the continental army and the Declaration of independence was adopted by congress on July 4, 1776. That is why we had Independence Day on July 4 back in the state. The ending battle was the surrender at Yorktown. This is where Sir Cornwallis, funny name right, surrendered on October 19, 1781. After that, the former colonies became the United States of America and since then has grown from thirteen stars to fifty. Okay, was that simply enough?

Alfred go a lot of "yeahs" and nods. "That was very simple and to the point with dates, not too bad Alfred. Wish you included a bit more information, but knowing you . . . You'll make up for it what you brought in, so please continue," spoke Mr. Conroy.

Smiling and giving a small nod, Alfred continued. "Okay, so for starters," Alfred pulled out his old blue coat with two white strips making and 'X' on the chest out first, "This was the coat used by the Patriots." He held it up for a few more seconds and then pull out the white pants, "These are the pants and these," he paused as he pulled out the white ankle wraps, "Are wraps you would have tied around your shin and ankle area." America set down the pants and pulled out the old shoe. "These are the shoes you'd wear then. The buckles, leather, and wood are all there. Remind you of a witch I my opinion," smiled Alfred as he showed the class.

_How would someone have these things in such good of shape after nearly two hundred years and twenty years?_

"Alright, now the fun part," said Alfred as he pulled out his old bayonet rifle, "This is what the colonists and redcoats used, at the time, for weaponry. The accuracy wasn't the best, but both sides would form lines and shoot at one time, in one large shebang. The bayonet was useful for quick action at close range. Like so," Alfred demonstrated the motion with great emphasis and ended, "A good man could load this baby in under a minute and fire the shot." Alfred picked up the gun and showed it to the class. Arthur watched and zoomed in at the small scratch on the side.

_That scratch . . . It can't be . . . From that day . . . ALFRED!_

"Lovely show Mr. Jones," smiled Mr. Conroy, who was a sucker for artillery. "You get an A with the rifle." Alfred smiled and packed his things carefully. "That concludes class for today, seeing you got a few minutes before the bell rings." Moving his stuff back, Alfred smiled at how well he did. He gathered his things and thought about hitting the computer lab to work on a project, instead of eating.

"Hey, Alfred. I want to talk to you during lunch if you don't mind," said Arthur. Alfred sighed and nodded his head. The bell rang and Alfred went to the front of the school and sat on the steps. Arthur made his way through the crowded hallway of students and sat by Alfred. "Are you done lying?" asked Arthur.

"What do you mean, bro'ha?" replied Alfred

Britain felt a faint flush against his cheeks as his anger increased slightly. "You know bloody well what I mean. That scratch on the gun. I put it there during that long and horrid war."

"And what if you did, what does that prove? I told you that I . . . Never mind," Alfred quickly remembered that he had Britain's memories taken of the night before.

"Told me what?" snapped Arthur.

Alfred took a deep breath and shook his head. He felt drained.

_Damn it is really sunny today . . . I picked a wonderful day to sit outside . . . I really am intelligent._

"Tell me."

"I did and you can't remember. Now, if you don't mind I'm going home," Alfred said as he got up and walked his normal route home. Britain rain after Alfred quickly and followed him the entire way.

"Damn you! Speak to me! I know you are my charge!"

That sent Alfred over the edge. He pulled Britain into his house and up the stairs. Gilbert wasn't anywhere to be seen, so Alfred assumed the store. He shoved Arthur into his room and closed the door. Shaking off all of his things, Alfred pinned Britain to the wall. "You are not my fucking caretaker anymore, got it?!"

Arthur's eyes opened wide and he smiled, "Alfred, it really is you."

"Yeah, it's me. But then again, I'm not me." Britain looked at Alfred confused. Alfred ripped off Britain's tie and ripped his sweater and oxford down the middle. "These wounds on your neck. I made them. I am a fucking vampire. This is what I had taken from you last night."

"Last night . . ." whispered Britain as his emerald eyes widened more. The memories of the evening before flooding his mind. The last thing to enter was the kiss, which caused Arthur blush horribly. "Y-you kissed me . . ."

Alfred laughed, "So that's the first thing you remember. You really are stupid. Don't forget I just turned four hundred a few days ago and I'm getting hungry."

"Then I'll make you something like the old days," smiled Britain, not catching Alfred's drift.

"You're not getting it. I'm a vampire. I drink blood . . . I drank yours last night," sighed Alfred, "That and I wouldn't mind going for another round."

"What are you? But how?" Britain was very confused now.

Sighing more, Alfred let Britain go. He reclaimed his spot on his bed and curled up in his blankets. "Go." Getting more comfortable, Alfred started to lose ties to reality. Then he felt a weight on his bed. "Why?" Alfred groaned.

"Because I let you go once and I'm not doing it again," explained Arthur. "Don't get me wrong, this goes against my ways, but I cared for you since were a baby and I was lost when you weren't around. I'm staying and you can't get rid of me."

"I could kill you," suggested Alfred.

His response to his comment was Arthur getting closer, "Then I'll die making you happy after forgetting you for so long."

Being extremely blunt about it, Alfred said, "You're stupid aren't you?"

"Only for things I care about!" pointed Britain.

"You're stupid." Britain shrugged it off and got closer. The closeness sent Alfred off. Warmth was radiating off of Arthur's being, it was irresistible. However, it was the sweet scent that really made Alfred crazy. Breathing got harder, Alfred looked at Britain's exposed neck and licked his lips. Without warning, he bit into the same spot he did before.

"AHHHH! AL-ALFRED!" yelled Britain as Alfred before sucking the sanguine liquid. It was warm, thick, creamy, and above all else held that flavor. The sucking was gentle and slow, giving Britain time feel everything. The pain melted away to pleasure and soon he was moaning lightly. "Ohhh . . . Alfred . . . Ah . . ." Alfred kept on sucking the beautiful liquid and stopped a while. He licked the excess and kept licking at the wound he had made, until the blood stopped flowing and clotted. Curling up, Alfred quickly fell asleep next to Britain happily and, above all else, full.

This left Arthur panting and in a haze. He felt extremely heavy and breathing was hard for him. Not a sound would come out of his mouth when he tried to talk. Even with no sound, he attempted to look at Alfred, but found that his eyes didn't want to strain too far. His lids had slowly grown over his eyes within time, they, too, were heavy to move.

_Alfred must have taken too much today since yesterday night. What am I going to do?_

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Reviews?


	7. Changing

Sorry the late update... Laptop erased it's own memory... so everything is gone... I had to restart and remembering things is not my forte.

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Alfred slept happily, for he was full. Something that only occurred when he had fed that night. Dreams invaded Alfred's subconscious as he slept. This time it was dark and depressing. Alfred saw himself bobbing his head over something as he watched his back. He saw himself holding something . . . It was a human, but who? Gilbert? Feliciano? Romano? Elizabeta? Who? That was when his dream self let go and turned to look at him. A sadistic smile spread across his lips as trickles of blood continued to drip from his chin. "Arthur is so delicious. A true delicacy."

"Arthur?" questioned Alfred. That was when he saw his dream counterpart shift his upper body to reveal Arthur's pale corpse.

"He was so fine . . . So pure."

"NOOOOO!" screamed Alfred as he woke up from his nightmare. He was panting hard and ran a hand through his ashened hair. Sweat collected around his hairline before it fell down his pale face. "Arthur?" Alfred looked next to him and saw his worst nightmare. Arthur was inhumanly pale. He seemed still, but there was the little movement of his chest. Alfred breathed out in slight relief, but knew too well that Arthur was not in good shape. Thinking, Alfred bit his wrist and shoved it into the Brit's mouth. "Drink Arthur. Drink." Soon, the vampire felt a small tug on his wrist and sighed out another bout of relief. The tugging got stronger and stronger. With each tug, Alfred moaned, "Ahhh." It was turning him on. The feeling of sharing blood with another. However, Alfred broke his wrist free as Arthur was starting to suck more rapidly.

Alfred was left panting as he looked upon his former charge. The rising and falling of the lithe chest at a constant rate was reassuring and smile spread across Alfred's face. The smile faded quickly as Alfred became tired again. Slumping quickly next to Arthur on his full sized bed, he quickly fell into a deep and black sleep. No dreams to worry him, no nothing.

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Gilbert had planned events for the week early because Kiku was coming to visit. The albino awoke early, like normal, to awake his family and to prepare breakfast. During their breakfast, he made lunches and then cleaned the mess as everyone started leaving for Gakuen High Academy. Smiling, Gilbert went back up to his room. His room had the same beige carpeting, but the albino had placed a crimson rug on top of the base carpet. His ebony dresser drawers lay open here and there, while his bed remained a mess of his tortuous sleep. Shrugging it all away, Gilbert went to his close and pulled on a hoodie with jeans and sunglasses.

Just like that, Gilbert left the pink house and went to the supermarket in the families only car. A black minivan that was a trooper for the families uses. Gilbert drove it proudly to the store and walked in. Many looked at him as if he were going to rob them, but he simply grabbed a cart and started shopping according to his list. Down all the aisles grabbing things from the left and right. Filling the once empty cart to the brim. Vegetables, meats, sauces, baking ingredients, and some junk food lined the cart. People looked and wonder why he had so much, but the albino walked as if nothing were wrong. Finally, after double checking his list, Gilbert went to check out. He wrote out a the full price of the groceries on a pristine check, which came out to be $267.76.

Smiling, Gilbert left the store and packed the back of the minivan with his bags. The rustling plastic quickly conquered the back, but Gilbert managed to fit it all in the trunk space of the trooper vehicle. Being a good citizen, the albino walked the cart back into the store and left to go home. It took hims a half an hour to get there with the traffic, an hour and a half in the store, and fifteen minutes to get home. Gilbert arrived home a little passed eleven. Carrying in bag after bag, he finished the task. However, he started the next by unbagging everything and putting them away. When he was finished it was twelve o'clock exactly. Now, the albino had to start the dinner for that night, but an aroma in the air prevented him doing so.

"Smells like blood . . ." Gilbert took off like a bloodhound as he investigated. Following his nose, he went up the winding steps of the stairs and stopped in front of Alfred's room. Pressing an ear against the door, Gilbert heard movement. Gasping, he opened the door and barged in. His eyes lay witness to two sleeping blondes. Gulping, the albino goes and checks the one he knows doesn't belong. Spying the bite marks and blood at his lips a worry ignites within Gilbert. Leaving quietly, Gilbert makes dinner and waits for Kiku to arrive.

As time flows by, more and more of his family came home from school and question about Alfred and Arthur. Gilbert tells them to mind their own business and is delighted when Kiku comes in. "Konichiwa, it had been rong(long) time."

"Ja, it has. I need to talk to you my oriental, not as awesome as I, friend," spoke Gilbert. The small Japanese man nodded his head and followed Gilbert to Kiku's study. "You are the oldest and know most about us, so what happens when a country drinks our blood?"

"Brood (blood)?" questions Kiku, "It has never happened before. I don't even know how to think about situation. I would think, wait and see resurts(results)."

Japan shifted from on foot to another and looked at Gilbert straight on. "Ja, I am just worried because Great Britain had Alfred's blood." The albino read the Asian's body movements like the back of his hand.

"Mr. Engrand? (England?)" questioned Kiku. "Keep him under watch. I have not seen him at worrd(word) meeting since first day." Japan quickly left and went to his own room.

Gilbert nodded his white head and returned to finish dinner. He thought of the reasons to why this was happening and what would happen. "Trust Japan. He is the oldest and is the only one of us that is participating at the world meetings now, but why was he . . . " Gilbert spoke to himself. Flipping random assortments of food and stirring the miso soup with care. This inner peacemaking continued for an hour until dinner was prepared and everyone, except for Alfred, was sitting at the table eating.

"This is good, Girbert(Gilbert)," spoke Japan as he ate his salted salmon.

The albino smiled and looked at Kiku, "Thank you, it's a special occasion when we get to have your presence around for a bit. Therefore, enjoy." Kiku nodded his head and continued to eat. The others ate and were cautious of the raw fish and salmon eggs. Gilbert, on the other hand, ate in silence because he was deep in thought.

Alfred giving Britain his blood . . . What will that do? Why did he do it? Was it for the right reason or was he bullied into it? He might have been bullied into it because I remember when Eyebrows beat the living shit out of mein and France's and Spain's asses when we fought together. I hope this does not put our family in a bad situation, for that is all we need. But the way it seemed like Japan was hiding something from me . . . Worries me even more.

Gilbert shifted his eyes up towards the ceiling as he tried to listen for any signs of life in Alfred's room.

* * *

Bright blue eyes opened first. Attachments stretched and joints cracked as the American forced his body to move. "Damn . . . Feel so old . . ." mumbled Alfred. He sat up and twisted his back from left to right, causing his spine to crack and boy did it feel sensational. As Alfred turned from side to side, he caught something moving in his peripheral vision. Stopping quickly, he laid his eyes on someone he knew, someone he love. "Arthur?"

"Mmmmm . . ." was all that replied. The other moved around sluggishly and lifted his pale head and looked around. His head felt too heavy, it seemed, to lift and move around at that moment. "Al?" mumbled Britain, "Hurts . . ." Arthur fell back onto his chest, when he got into this position he did not know or feel the impact of falling, but it was a comfortable position to be in at the moment. The moment was short lived as his chest seemed to coil around itself and tightened, making breathing hard. "H-hurts . . ." echoed Arthur again. He reached and hugged his chest as he rolled off his stomach.

Alfred placed one of his cool, large hands over Arthur's head. "You're warm, almost feverish," worried the vampire. Cool lips pressed against the warmth radiating from Arthur's forehead. "I'll be back . . ." whispered Alfred as he got up and left his room. With quick speed, Alfred was down the stairs and met eyes with Gilbert. "Gil, help."

The albino was quick to get up, "What is the matter bruder?"

"It's Arthur . . . He's feverish and ill looking . . . Panting too . . . I'm . . . I'm worried," stated Alfred quickly, yet quietly.

Gilbert moved past Alfred and up the stairs to the American's room. Just as Alfred had stated, the Brit was looking more pale than usually and sweating from heat. Crossing across the beige floor and kicking Alfred's bag across the room, the albino rested his pale hand against Britain's wet brow. His own hand was the same color of Britain's, Not good thought Gilbert. According to his cool hand, Arthur was fighting a temperature. "Britain, can you hear me?"

Silence sheathed the room until loud bursts of sound broke through. The blonde curled up as he coughed hard. The sound echoed as new gagging sounds broke freely from the pale lips. "H-hurts . . ." whined Arthur. It felt like his entire body was thrown into a fire and being roasted, slowly, alive. Gilbert watched in silence and wonder as more coughing racked from the weakening lithe body.

"It's okay Britain, just relax, and let what will come, come." Gilbert turned on his heels and walked downstairs. He was met with many pairs of eyes in all shades. "Haben wir vielleicht ein neues Familienmitglied."

A pair of golden brown eyes stared at Gilbert with intensity, "Damn beer drinking bastard! Don't a speak German to those who don't know a it!"

"VE!" butted in Feliciano, "It's your own a fault Romano, you refuse to take and a learn German."

"FOR GOOD DAMN A REASON!"

Alfred looked at the floor and was white at the words Gilbert had just spoke. "'We might have a new family member' was what Gilbert said."

Everyone looked at each other and whispered among themselves.

Gilbert stood tall and proud at the head of the table. Slamming his palms down so hard that the sound echoed within the room. "ENOUGH!" glared the albino. All whispering ended as the multiple eye colors looked at the fiery red ones. "Wherever our family lives . . . Japan, Germany, Britain, the United States of America, anywhere . . . Our home is a peaceful place for our kind to reside and "exist". If the person known as the United Kingdom, Great Britain, England, the Britannia Empire, and Arthur Kirkland is going to become like one of us, he will be welcomed like one of us. We all started out the same. Hurt from the pain and fever killing our bodies, but we became something else . . . Something needed for this world."

Shades of green, blue, and brown looked up at Gilbert's glowing eyes and strong composure. "Mr. Girbert, is correct. One by one we ferr(fell) into this existence and became something more. We exist today from the herp(help) of other's rove(love) and kindness," spoke the quiet Japanese man.

Eyes shifting between the two parent like figures of the family. The younger Gilbert Beilschmidt of the lost country of Prussia. who succumb to this unknown illness a few years after second great war. He performed the little things around the house to helping all of his brothers and sisters. Then there was Kiku Honda of Japan, who was the first to fall so many years ago. The world was young when Kiku existed and "fell", leaving him secluded in his house for nearly two hundred years of isolation. However, Kiku played the fatherly role and protected the family during world meetings, because he has been the only lost one to return to being a "country."

Alfred looked at Gilbert, then at Kiku. The American smiled wide and nodded his head before he went back upstairs. Guilt was slowly eating at his insides, because he had done this to Arthur. Nothing creaked or cracked as he went up the stairs slowly and opened his room. Panting was heard from the down the stairs, same with the coughing. The sound choked the room as Arthur continued the natural process of a lost one's journey. Shuffling across the floor, Alfred sat on the side of his bed and groomed his fingers through Arthur's pale and sweaty locks. Tired green eyes opened, revealing growing rings under his eyes. Guilt racked up more. The eyes that Alfred adored were so lifeless and tired. "My dear Arthur . . . How are you?"

A low voice and cracked voice broke through with little energy within it. "N-not fee-feeling so w-w-well."

America continued to groom his fingers through Britain's hair and smiled weakly, "Everything will be okay. It hurts now, but later you'll feel ecstatic." A small smile formed on Arthur's weak lips. "Yes, think of everything you and I can do. It can be like old times almost, just us two together."

"B-be gra-grand . . . L-love you A-Al," breathed Arthur as the tightening got worse.

Sitting and holding his hand was all Alfred could do for the person he cared for. He would occasionally rub Britain's back lovingly and gently to help. This made the Brit smile and blush, thanking his high fever for hiding the blush. Alfred began to hum an old lullaby, making Britain smile, and causing the weak man to succumb to sleep easily. As time ticked away, Arthur's breathing weakened and slowed. The life seemed to drain right out of him. Rubbing a thumb against Arthur's cheek was when the sick man awoke from his slumber with a smile. "Arthur, it'll be alright," whispered Alfred.

Lifeless green eyes stared at America's face, but the features that England loved were starting to disappear.. Everything was going black. Alfred looked and hugged Arthur tightly. With the embrace, America felt the weakened chest barely moving. His ears heard one thump . . . Two thumps . . . And then nothing. Tears pricked in the corners of the blue eyes as his brow furrowed and he bit his lip in sorrow. America kissed Arthur's cheeks and then closed his eyes.

"I love you . . ."

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